An Adventure
by xXxshadowsneak
Summary: Four children are taken from their comfortable lives and placed into a life that is completely different from what they have ever experienced. They are made into Spartan-II's and come to form Blue Team (non-canon) whom will overcome all sorts of adversity to protect the UNSC and her colonies from the looming Covenant threat.
1. Prologue

**1341 hours, June 3rd, 2532 [MILITARY CALENDAR]\ Hovorta system, Planet Juve, Kilo Elementary School**

Waylen steps out of the pelican and takes a civilian transport vehicle to an elementary school's park. She sits on one of the benches surrounding the playground and smooths her grey formal skirt. "If I might ask, ma'am, who are we looking for?" Commander Henry Fairgate asks her. She scans the playground and finds a lone boy with jet-black hair sitting at the base of a tree, watching the other children play. He regards them with a wary eye.

She picks up her holo-pad and smiles. That was him.

Subject-332. He was five years old with jet-black hair and crystal blue eyes. He had a skeptical personality. But a smart and calculating mind which makes up for his distrusting demeanor.

"This boy," Waylen says, handing the Commander the holo-pad. "Subject-332. Jackson," Henry reads.

Without warning, Waylen stands up with one fluid movement and makes her way towards the boy who sees her stand and watches her until she reaches him.

He doesn't stand up, he just watches her with skeptical eyes that judge her every move. Waylen can't get a read on the boy. His face is void of all emotions. It makes the woman uneasy. She can always get a read on her test subjects. But not Jackson.

"What do you want?" he asks her, locking eye contact. She returns the firm gaze, but he doesn't back down. "You're all alone up here. Why don't you want to go play with the others?" Waylen asks, kneeling down to eye-level. Jackson has a cold gaze, one that is very abnormal for a 5 year old. "I've tried. They say I play too hard. I scare everyone away," He says. "Look, lady. I know you're here to offer me something. So can you please get to it?"

That startles Waylen. She wasn't expecting that. But she recovers quickly, trying to not let Jackson see it. "I just wanted to say hi. Nice talking to you, Jackson," She says.

Jackson watches her like a snake as she leaves, and doesn't stop watching her until she had disappeared with the Commander.

"Will he do?" Henry asks Waylen. Henry has been accompanying Waylen for her "selections" for about a month now. And Jackson was the last.

"Yes. He is a smart young boy. He will do perfectly for Project Freebird," She says and steps into the pelican.

I can't believe i remember that day. it all seemed like so long ago. When I had parents and friends. Another lifetime, it seems. But I do remember when I first met Waylen which marked the beginning of a hell-ride that would jerk me from what I knew and break me into nothing. But it was all worth it, in the end. I can't even remember my old life, it's been that long.

That very next day after meeting Waylen, i would be taken from my home, right under my parent's noses, and taken to a facility on Reach that would become my home. I was taken along with 73 others. But eight of us were separated for unknown reasons. Four of us formed a team almost as soon as we met each other. The other four became our rivals and enemies as we would progress through our Spartan ranks. But my squad, my beloved friends, would pull through no matter the cost or situation. And I can't ask for anything better.


	2. Chapter One

**1000 hours, July 3rd, 2532 [MILITARY CALENDAR]\ ORTZ system, Planet Mephis, Inside Base Galich**

"All of you have been called to serve the UNSC and her colonies. You will be trained as soldiers and assassins. You will become the best we can make of you," Waylen says. She is standing below 74 children, all accompanied by an individual Drill instructor.

These children have just been stolen from their homes and shipped out in slipspace then awoken from their cryo slumber and put into this indoors amphitheater. It was terrifying for most, scary for the bravest, and I wasn't excluded. But as this woman speaks, I become more intrigued then scared. Her words meant something to me. Something deep and powerful. Though I didn't yet understand what it meant, I would in ten years when our augmentations would begin.

Waylen shifts her stance, her eyes turning cold. "It has been a rough trip for you all. But I regret to inform you that you may never see your parents again," Waylen pauses and lets it sink in. I hear a shocked silence and sniffles as it hits home with the entire audience. I had already accepted the facts at this point. I knew what came next would be new and scary. I had already let go of my old life, and embraced my new one, whatever it might be.

Her voice is cold and sharp as she continues. "This place will become your home. All of the other children you see around you will become your family. You trainers will become your parents," She says. Her voice does nothing to sooth the panicked children, it just makes it worse. But the tiny bodies of the children cannot break free of the drill instructors. No matter how hard some of them pushed.

Waylen pauses before speaking again. "Follow your drill instructors to your room. You may have ten hour's sleep before your new life begins," Waylen says, and leaves the room.

Our Intructors march us out of the room and to the shower's where we are instructed to strip our clothing. Most of us are reluctant to change in front of the adults and other children. The ones who refuse to strip are stripped down by the instructors and are left with tears flowing down their cheeks.

We stand naked and scared for ten minutes. In this time, the children begin getting restless and going out of line. But when they do, the instructors shove them back into the line, no matter how much they cry or try to run.

After fifteen minutes orderlies appear with boots, shirts, pants, and belts. The number 332 is stenciled into the left breast of my grey shirt. A number that identifies me amongst the 73 others. The clothes fit perfect, as if they were made specially for me. I was too tired at the time to care much for it.

I sit on my bunk that has 332 embedded into the metal frame. The mattress is flat as well as the pillow. But I am exhausted. My tiny body isn't used to the abuse.

I started thinking about my family. What were they thinking, what are they doing? But my thoughts don't get far as I fall asleep the instant my head hits the pillow.

I awaken a few hours later as the door flies open and the instructors begin rudely waking the other children up. Those who refuse to get up get jabbed by a metal rod. Halfway down the line of beds, the other kids begin getting the idea and get up before they get shocked. I don't, though. I don't want to get up. I'm still too tired. And the thought of what awaits me keeps me in bed.

I get angry at the instructors. Angry for bringing us here. And for waking us up so rudely and treating us so badly.

I wait for the instructor to near, and when he gets to my bed, I lash out with my small legs and knock the rod from his hands.

"Why you!" The instructor snarls and grabs me by my neck and throws me to the ground. "Get up!" He roars, towering over me with his rod.

I don't move fast enough and he jabs me in the side. I give a yelp of pain and climb to my feet before he can hit me again.

The man who grabbed me pushes me roughly towards the other trainees who look just as bewildered and tired as I am. I'm too shocked to cry, so I just stand stiff like the others are.

"I am Chief Petty Officer Hokai. And the rest of these men are your instructors. You will do what they say, when they say," He says. "The showers are behind you. Shower then return here. On the double."

We scurry off to the showers and undress again then shampoo ourselves in lukewarm water and then rinse in ice-water. The water wakes us all up and we are practically buzzing as we return to Hokai. "Outside, double time!" Hokai shouts. No one wants to ignore the massive man. So we all march outside and onto a large lawn.

The instructors herd us into formation as Hokai takes his stance. "100 jumping jacks, go!" He shouts and begins doing his own set of 100 in front of us.

The man is like nothing I have ever seen before. As we were gasping for breath and our muscles were screaming for rest, he didn't look like he had even broken a sweat. Now, I understand why he was like that and I even respect it. But back then I resented the man. I absolutely hated him.

My muscles were shaking like a man with parkinson's by the time he got to 80. And by the time he reached 100 I felt as if I was made out of paper. I could barely breath I was hurting so bad.

"100 sit-ups!" He shouts and begins for us. We follow suit, barely able to do it.

At the 30th situp I stop and flip to my knees and vomit violently and then collapse into the bile. I couldn't do it anymore. I was worn out, exhausted. I knew I was going to get into trouble, just like the other kids. But I couldn't will my arms or my legs to move. All I could do was lay down and breath shallowly.

The trainers jerked me back up, but I didn't respond. I only responded when they jabbed me with a shock-stick, and then only barely roll onto my back and finish the rest of the 60 situps. My body was hurting, and I could barely think. My eyesight was blurring as well.

Hokai stops after the 100th call and stretches his arms. "10 minute break!" He says and grabs a bottle of water from the ground.

The instructors wheel in bottles of warm water and we are each handed one. We down them without a word. We are all too tired to do much more then pant.

After the grueling exercise, we are marched down to a large building with columns. This is our school where a holographic lady teaches us different things. I learn a lot there, but not much I can remember. I was always too distracted by my hate which burned inside of me like an inferno. But we did get a small snack of three crackers each, which wasn't much but it did restore my vision and let me think a little clearer. I did learn math and different history lessons there. I was interested in the tactical side of things. Such as how the battles were planned out and how the generals guided the soldiers.

After class, we are marched another two miles to the "playground" which is really just an obstacle course. It has a large wooden wall that you scale over to get to a wooden bridge which leads to the monkey bars and then climbs over to the slides which leads to the poles that you climb up, and razor wire that we are forced to crawl under while live fire whizzes over your head.

We train like this for a good five years. In those five years, we harden like steel, becoming something that we never thought possible. We become soldiers at just ten years of age.

Eight of us are separated from the main group of 74 and put into a special program named "Project Freebird". I am paired with three others. Parkson-333, Kia-334, and Spartan 211. We learn to become an excellent team after many trial and error training missions. 211 is the unofficial leader, since he's the bravest.

We are called blue Team, while the four others are called Red team. We form a burning rivalry, one that is forced onto us by the instructors.

We train for another five years and become even harder then before. The trainers get worse and worse and even stricter then before. Hokai steps back a little and lets the others take over. But he's always there, screaming at us for each mistake, but not always guiding us.

When the final day comes around, we are more then ready. We have been training our butts off for 5 years. it doesn't sound like much, but trust me. It was. We got into many deadly fights with Red Team, many of which put our team members into the hospital. But over this time we learned how to deal with enemies and formed our team without even having to go onto the battlefield. It was truly a learning experience, even though it didn't feel like it at the time. We learned teamwork, and our friendship formed during the years.

Anyways, once the final day arrives we are ran five miles to the final testing grounds, a large obstacle course.


	3. Chapter Two

**1400, July 3rd, 2542 [MILITARY CALENDAR]\ ORTZ system, Planet Memphis, Base Galich's obstacle course**

Two lines of four Spartan Cadets line up before the great obstacle course. They are known as Blue Team and Red team.

Me, Parkson, 211, and Kia make up Blue team. Our rivals and enemies, Perish-312, Janet-313, Melecia-314, and Charlie-315 make up Red Team. They hate us. And when I say hate, i mean _hate_.

Perish glares at me as Hokai explains the rules.

"You will work as a team to complete this course. The first team to come back here, the finishing line, will be rewarded with a week's rest from all duties. The team who finishes last will have to do the other team's duties, plus their own for the winning team's downtime. Do you understand me?" Hokai shouts. "Sir, yes sir!" We reply.

"At the shot, you will start," Hokai says, stepping away from the two teams.

Up ahead is a training ground. First up there's a rope that leads to metal tires that are set up in rows of two. After those is a weak wooden bridge, and after that is a jungle gym maze of at least one hundred ropes that dangle down from an overhead platform. The ropes drop onto a large metal platform with cement barricades peppering the vast area and red stains splattering the grey metal.

In the middle of it all is a mound of dirt with a flag sticking out of it. On the flag is the Spartan insignia, an Eagle with arrows in one talon and a lightning bolt in the other.

We are supposed to capture the flag and bring it back to the starting point with the rest of our teammates, or we fail. A lesson in teamwork, if you will.

We are given Assault Rifles with paintball rounds in them. They are meant to make the game more intense and real.

We ready ourselves as we wait for the signal. And when it comes, we take off.

Five yards of full out sprinting with the enemy team trying to slow you down by firing at you.

Me and 211 hit the same speed, so we run side-by-side as Kia runs behind us and Parkson behind her and the rest of the Red Team behind them, each of them at each other's heels. Paintball rounds slam into us as the enemy team fires on us from behind, heading for the left climbing rope. The rounds sting as they hit our skin, clawing at our nerves and slowing us down.

We hit the rope and I let the others up before climbing up myself. I suffer a few rounds to my arms and chest but I ignore the stinging pain as welts form on the impact areas.

I lead my team into the tires, hopping in and out of the holes before realizing something and running on the sides of the tires, quickly overtaking Red Team. We're already past them before they catch on to our tactic and do the same.

We hit the bridge and carefully make it across, staying ahead of the trainees who are desperately trying to catch us.

Once we reach the Rope Maze, Red Team is at our heels and gaining.

I grab a hold of one of the ropes and latch onto it with my legs and use my free arm to unsling my Rifle and open fire on the enemies behind us. One of the rounds splatters the rope Melecia was holding and she hits the ground. One down.

Perish catches up to me and he lashes out with his weapon and almost hits my knuckles. I swing aside in time to avoid being hit and kick out with my leg, hitting him in the calf. He grits his teeth and moves ahead before I can do anything else.

To my right, 211 and Charlie are fighting each other. The outcome ends in 211 falling to the ground from a brutal blow from Charlie. He's out of the game. Crap. 211's our most brutal teammate. He can take a good beating before going down, but Charlie just took him out.

We drop onto the platform, one by one, and scatter to opposite sides.

"Wait, not yet," I tell Kia who was about to head up.

The "battlefield" is cloaked in eerie silence as we wait for each other to make a move, assessing each other's moves and waiting. We wait for what seems like forever, until Perish darts for the flag.

"Cover me!" I tell my team and leave my weapon behind and sprint for the flag.

Gun fire rings throughout the area as both teams open fire on each other, barely missing me and Perish.

Perish reaches the flag first and jerks it from its stand and hits me with the pole.

The cold metal slams into my face and blood flies from my mouth as I double over on my knees, coughing up blood. The copper taste floods my mouth as it runs over my tongue and through my teeth.

Perish looks over his shoulder and swings the pole around, hitting Parkson in the side of the head with it and knocking him down. Kia tackles him and slams him into the ground, ripping the flag free and hitting him with in the cheek with it. A teammate tackles Kia off and rears back his fist. Kia gets her legs up and sends the trainee flying backwards where he almost hits the third teammate.

Perish recovers from Kia's brutal blow and grabs the flag's pole and tries to wrestle it free. I grab him by the shoulders and jerk him to the ground but he grabs my legs and jerks them hard, making me lose my balance and fall to the ground where I fall into his fist. I roll to my feet, trying desperately to ignore the disorientation that came from being punched.

Someone suddenly tackles Parkson and drives him to the ground. The second attacker drop-kicks Kia and smashes her fist into Kia's face. Perish takes the advantage to attack me. I don't see his swing as the flag's pole slams into my throat, cutting off my oxygen and making me gasp for air as my airways collapse. I fall to one knee, grabbing at my throat in desperation to suck in air. Perish grins viciously and hits me hard in the chest with the end of the pole.

I fall backwards, unable to defend myself. Perish grins as he towers over me, his teenage body bleeding and crippled. He gives the finishing blow, a boot to the face, before ODST's storm the scene, weapons drawn with real bullets in them.

"On the ground, now!" An ODST roars at the remaining trainee's. "Get on the ground!" Another yells.

"Multiple wounded, no casualties. Requesting medical evac," I hear a nearby ODST say into his helmet.

My vision is blurring and I can feel a strange pain in the side of my head. I still can't breathe, and it's a little unsettling. But it doesn't really matter anymore. A sharp pain pulses in the side of my head and scrapes against the muscles and the hard platform when I clench my jaw. I can feel wetness underneath my head. It mats my hair and feels strange under my skin, like warm water.

I see the blurry outline of an ODST as he crouches over me, med kit in hand. "We've got a severe over here!" The ODST yells. I feel the slight cool sting of biofoam as the ODST sprays it onto the side of my head. "Why do I need that, sir?" I try to ask. But it comes out in a wheeze and gurgled words. "Don't speak, cadet," The ODST says firmly. I shut up and lay still as the medics arrive, followed by the muffled sound of a Pelican landing. Medical evac?

I am lifted onto a stretcher and more biofoam is applied to different areas of my body, mainly the head. I hear a whooshing of air as something is strapped over my face. Air rushes into my lungs and I breath it in. It's painfull, but I can live with it. But as oxygen comes back to me, I am suddenly aware of the stabbing pain in my head followed by a rattling or loose sensation. "Multiple trauma wounds. Cracked skull, broken temporal plate, extracting to Severe Treatment Hospital," one of the Medics says.

"How many are wounded?" One of the accompanying ODST's asks as the Pelican lifts into the sky. "Three. This one here and two others in his squad. Took pretty bad hits. They're going to need at least a week of recovery. Maybe more," the medic says. "They're Spartans. They can't spare that much," the ODST says. "Not yet Spartans, marine. Not yet," the medic says.

I stay awake for a few minutes more before the exhaustion from the fight takes me into a dreamless void.


	4. Chapter Three

**0200 hours, July 20th, 2542 [MILITARY CALENDAR]\ ORTZ system, inside Galich Base**

I was taken to the severe treatment Hospital in Alpha base where they treated my broken bones. I found out that Perrish had completely collapsed the temporal bone plate in the side of my head, just behind the eye sockets. They had to put in a metal plate to act as the bone. They had fixed all other breaks and bruises, fortunately.

I got out of the hospital within two weeks and I am now on my way to respond to a summons from Cheif Petty officer Hokai, our instructor.

Once I reach the room, I recoil quickly and twist sharply, outstretching my arm. My fingers wrap around the blade that was thrown at me. Hokai lowers his arm with a grin. "I see you're as sharp as ever. Good," He says. I try to return the blade to him but he gives it back to me. "Think of it as my last gift to you," He says. I don't know what that means. But I have a feeling that I'll know soon enough. I bring the blade with me as I turn to my team.

There are raised seats that extend back a few feet. Blue team is sitting on the left set and Red team on the right. Perrish glares as me as I take my seating in front of 211 and beside Parkson.

Hokai steps in front of a flat TV, hands clasped behind his back. "Today, you will learn about the true nature of your training. As some of you may have heard at one point, you are training to become 'Spartans'. Now, 'What are Spartans?' you might be wondering," Hokai says, stepping to the right of the TV.

The lights dim and the TV lights up.

A projection of a male appears, arms sticking out. His muscles are bigger then that of a normal Male and he is much taller.

Pieces of what look like armor come into view on different parts of the model. Black underarmor appears to cover the skin as the armor covers the model. A helmet descends over the head to form a type of armored Marine.

"This is what is called Mjolnir Mark V Spartan combat Armor. After you are augmented, you will be given your own set and sent into two month's worth of Spartan Armor training. Your augmentation will begin in two days, enough time to regain your strength for what is to come next. Now, not all of you will survive the augmentation. Only a couple of you might, maybe all. But if you do, you will be stronger then ever before." Hokai points to the model as it shifts to be naked again.

Different points light up as Hokai speaks.

"Your muscular strength will improve as well as your intelligence and your speed. To put it into basics, you will become 100% better then you are now. If you survive. You will be put under anesthesia and if you wake, you will be new. Do you understand?" Hokai finishes.

"Sir, yes sir!" We reply in unison.

"Good. Now go get some rest. You will need it for what is coming up. Dismissed!"

I lead the way back to our barracks and sit down on my bunk, holding my head in my hands. My finger runs across the metal supplement which is hard and unnatural. Light streams in through narrow windows above our beds, illuminating the metal room. It's still early, around 0200 hours. The sun is still low in the air. We'll have a lot of time to think this over.

As we mull over what just happened, I study the combat blade Hokai gave me. It has a serrated edge near the hilt and the end of the blade is curved. The hilt has AH inscribed on the side of it. Gold patterns are distributed along the hilt in swerves and curls.

"Spartans, eh? I personally like the idea," Kia says from her bunk. "But I don't like what Hokai said. 'If you survive.' What's the hell is that supposed to mean?" 211 says. "Isn't it obvious? Not all of us are making it out alive," Parkson says. "But it can't be bad if Hokai is letting us do it. He wouldn't ever let us do something that would kill us," Kia says. "Not unless it's out of his power," I say grimly. "Guys, what we're facing is serious. It's not just another live fire round. This is our final test, pass or die. There's no other way to put it."

The others quiet up after that, processing the excessively heavy weight of my words.

Two days past. Two days of tense waiting that seems like pure hell. I thought the live fire sessions were bad. But this? Much worse.

We train in the gym, pass time by doing push-ups and reading different books. We eat slowly, as we are allowed to do, and think more about what is to come.

Hokai withdraws from us quite suddenly. He disappears after the briefing and we only rarely see him. He was like a father to us, a strict father who wanted nothing but to see his children succeed. I have a feeling that whatever's coming up is going to be bad. And we'll never see Hokai again after it. I hate it. I hate all of it. The training, the waiting, the Spartans _and_ the augmentation. It all seems unfair to all of us. But then again, we're just pawns in a bigger role. Fighting their wars, winning for them.

When the absolute final test comes, are heads are shaved and we are then shipped to a hidden facility that is dug deep into a mountain which is hundreds of miles from the base we called home. We are let out of the Falcon's and are set up into a four man single file line, one for each team. Red Team is there as well, in the second line of four. Each trainee looks exhausted and scared, but also brave and ready. Hokai arrives, looking grim and sleep deprived. "Cadets, this is your last test. If you pass, you will become Spartans. Super soldiers. You will learn to fight your enemy and will save humanity in ways no others could. So follow me. Your augmentation awaits," Hokai says, turning sharply on his heel and facing the large doors that seem like the gates to hell.

We march down the tunnel, ODST's at our heels, Hokai leading the way. The tunnel is wide and circular. Four lanes are set up on each side, one for incoming and the other for outgoing with two lanes in each side.

Scorpions and warthogs as well as other transports roar past us as we walk along the side-path. We pass what seems like hangers with busy personal and Pelican's within as well as Falcon's and Sparrowhawks.

The traffic gets thick and busy as we delve deeper into the facility, but thins out again as we reach our destination.

The door is marked A-12. We go into the room which is small, very small. It looks like an air hatch between space and the interior area. Except it feels like the door behind us is our old lives, and the door ahead of us leads to our new lives.

We stop in the middle of the room, four Spartans in single file with two rows. One for Blue team and one for Red. Hokai turns to us, having stayed behind. He instructs us to turn around and we do so without argue. As we turn, I could have sworn his eyes were...wet. Brimming with tears. But it must have been my imagination. Had to have been...

"Cadets, you will wait here until further orders. Obey the techies when they call you and do what they say. I want a clean operation, don't mess this up," Hokai says. Techies, a word for scientists or those who deal with technology of any kind. A word he made up, and one we always use.

Hokai clasps his hands behind his back and straightens up. "Cadets, it's been an honor being your teacher. But from here on out, you're your own instructor. You will become great soldiers, you count on that. Dismissed." He sounded way too soft, different, unlike Hokai. At that point, I didn't think much of it. I was too nervous. But now, I understand that that's how he was in the beginning. He was being tough on us to mold us. And I appreciate him for it.

He walks out of the room and the door slides shut behind him, closing with a clang that was much scarier then it should have been.

We sit and wait for what seems like forever. We stand at attention, dressed in nothing but our underwear, which was instructed of us as we neared this room. Parkson and I's heads are freshly shaved. 211 shaved early and his head is marked with a brown haze.

When the doctors finally come, they call in Blue team first. Perish leads his team into the augmentation room, head held high and shoulders back. That's the last I see of him as he heads into the large augmentation room. Forever gone from my life.

We wait for what seems like hours, and turns out it was. But after they are finished with the first segment, the doctors come through and call us in. I am told to give them my knife, and they'll hold it for me until I get out. If I get out.

I give them Hokai's last parting gift reluctantly and follow them into the large dark room. As Parkson nears the beds they take notice of his necklace and he is told to give it to them for holding. He takes off the necklace, which is draped around his neck, and hands it to them. He doesn't show any emotion, but I know it hurt him to do that. That necklace was given to him by his parents before he was abducted into the Spartan program. Somehow it got past the Marines and lasted all of these years. It's his only reminder of his old life, what he used to have. We assume he came from a rich family because, as we found out later, the necklace costed five hundred dollars and was in good condition.

The room is large and dimly lit. Many rows of flat beds are set up in two rows on either side of the room. A half-circle of glass and steel lays over the far end of the beds, nearest to the wall. I assume it's to monitor the subject's vital signs.

We are lead to flat metal "beds" with straps on them. The room is dark and seems dead. Almost like a tomb. We are instructed to lay down on the "beds" and put our limbs into the straps and we do so without arguing.

And as I am strapped in, I could have sworn I saw other bodies on the opposite side of the room, all with wires and machines hooked up to them.

But then I look straight up, as instructed, and grimace as a needle is stuck into my skin.

I look over and see Parkson to my right with doctors and nurses surrounding him. But that is right before I lose myself to the Morphine.

I wonder what it'll be like when I wake up...


	5. Chapter Four

**1930 hours, July 28th, 2542 [MILITARY CALENDAR]\ ORTZ system, above planet Mephis, Aboard UNSC space station Hretred**

I watch with an unsettling numbness as four coffins are launched into space and drift further and further away.

We found out a few days after waking up from the augmentations that Red team didn't make it. The augmentations killed them all. It was grave news, and offsetting. But not upsetting. We had different things to worry about at the time. Such as the fact that Parkson hasn't said a word since he woke up from the table, and that Kia hasn't been herself.

We all made it out unscathed, but weaker then we have ever been. Even more so then before we started training. We are told that this is normal, and we will be stronger when we fully recover. The recovery time is predicted to be at least two months. But until then, we are given large meals and nutrient injections as well as light exercise to keep the extra weight off. The thing I think is the most off-setting is that we almost never see Hokai anymore. He used to always be there, towering over us and screaming in our ears. As much as I hated it, I grew used to it. It was normal, even.

A month comes and goes, and we are given smaller rations. The nutrient injections stop and we are allowed more free time as our bodies begin to adjust to their new and improved shells.

I don't like this, something seems off. As if they're preparing us for something big. They're keeping us in the dark, which is equally disturbing. But whatever comes next i'm sure we're ready for. We're a team now and we do everything together. But I'm still not sure why they haven't chosen a squad leader yet. 211 would be perfect for the role. Brave, confident, strong. What is Hokai planning?

One day in the gym, I sit on one of the benches after doing some speed punches on the punching bags and take out Hokai's blade. The blade is curved at the end and graphite black. The steel is slightly dull. I need to sharpen it. The blade has five serrated edges near the hilt. The hilt has golden swirls that dance all around it.

My head jerks up as I hear someone enter the room. A squad of ODST's strides inside. They look puffed up and arrogant. Typical ODST's. But they're looking for a fight, and they're in the way of me and the door. I'll have to try and get past them without trouble.

I calmly set down my weights and sheath my blade and then begin walking towards the door. But as soon as I near it, the ODST group moves to intercept me.

There are four ODST's in the squad. One's six feet tall and muscular. His neck muscles bulge out of his tanktop. The ODST helljumper tattoo is seared onto his left arm. The other three ODST's look large and strong as well.

I continue on my path to the door but the largest ODST steps in my way and shoves me back hard, his expression spins a tale of arrogance.

"I don't want any trouble," I say calmly. "Oh yeah, meat?" The biggest one shouts at my face. He's stepped close to me so that he's not two inches from my face. He reminds me of Hokai, and how he used to do this. It makes me angry, and I want to punch him. But he might be a superior officer. And he is, after all, a personnel in the UNSC.

I keep my temper in check and try to brush past them. But the biggest ODST grabs me by the shoulders and attempts to shove me again.

Time seems to speed up as my body reacts on its own.

I grab the biggest ODST by his arms and jerk them downwards. By doing so, I dodge the blow of the first ODST who reacted quickest. I shove the ODST back by slamming my body weight into him and driving my elbow into his lower intestines. Something gives as my elbow slams into his skin, and the ODST collapses in a heap, hacking up blood.

His team reacts violently, one grabbing a steel rod. I side-step his attack and drive my elbow into the back of his neck and take a step back then kick him into the others. They fall from the force, the furthest away slamming into the wall. But once they come back i'm more then ready to fight as they gave me too much time to recover.

I grab a dumbell and chuck it at the nearest ODST, using the distraction to run off of the nearest wall and push off of my heel. I drive into the third ODST and knock him down, knocking him out by slamming his head into the wall.

I climb off of the downed ODST and ease into a warrior's stance, legs spread and arms up and ready. The remaining ODST has a metal rod in his hands, hesitating. He glances at the nearby door, then back at me. I know he's going to run. I won't stop him.

But that's when Hokai steps into the room.

His cropped red hair is peppered with grey and black and his eyes look older then before. But despite his apparent aging, his body is still that of a hardened soldier. Rock hard chest and bulging muscles with prominent veins.

"Spartan, stand down!" Hokai barks.

I instantly snap into attention, heels together and arms held to my sides. "Sir!" I say, snapping a salute.

"Marine, get out of here," Hokai says to the ODST who does a double-take towards me. "He's...one of them!" The ODST hisses before taking off.

"At ease," Hokai says, stepping into the room. "Spartan, mind telling me what you were doing?" But this time It's not his usual scorning tone that signals punishment. It's more like...he was expecting it. "Sir, i was defending myself, sir!" I say. "Yes. I was afraid of that," he says with a heavy sigh."Sir?" I ask, watching him as he comes to stand in front of me. "You and your team are being moved to Pikran 3 ASAP. Pack your belongings, Spartan, and meet me at the hanger for dust-off in one hour," He says.

I furrow my brow, then my eyes widen in surprise. I don't say anything as he leaves, I'm too shocked to even move. I had just been promoted to squad leader. Blue Team is now my team.

I tell the others to pack and they pack swiftly. No one needs to say it, we all know that i've been promoted. The immediate change is startling. How they act in general is obviously different then before we had a leader. Now they are more serious, straighter and they hold themselves differently, they respect me more then before. 211 isn't bitter about it at all. In fact, he respects Hokai's decision and likes it, from my understanding.

We march to the hanger, duffle bags in tow. We meet Hokai in one of the assigned transport pelicans and are told to get seated. We do so and harnesses fall over our chests. "It's a three hour ride to the Pikran system, and another hour to Pikran 3. This is your first space ride, that you can remember of course. Nausea is normal, but if you puke you will regret it. See you there, Spartans," Hokai says and the pelican's ramp closes, leaving us in silent darkness.

A soft red light illuminates the carrier as the Pilot lifts the ship up and out of the hanger. I count down the minutes silently, and there's a shift in the air as the artificial oxygen comes online and we exit the hanger. There are view ports behind each of the seats, and we crane our heads to look down at Mephis, our home. We watch as it slowly drifts out of view before the pilot activates the thrusters and the planet suddenly snaps out of view, never to return.


	6. Chapter Five

**0500 hours, September 17th, 2542 [MILITARY CALENDAR]\ Pikran System, Pikran 3, inside underground facility**

Mark I prototype suits, heavy and thick. The trainers are protected inside of the slow moving suits, shelled by hydraulics and circuits. Their helmets are the early versions of the Mjolnir Mark VI helmet that is standard for most Spartan II's.

These are the things that we face during another stealth game of CTF. There are at least fourteen trainers in all peppering the football field sized arena.

There is a sloped wall to the far left of the room and the room is square and bland, but impossible to see through when pitch black. And that is why we always take out the lights before we start.

"You got 'em?" I whisper to Parkson who nods and pulls a thin string. There is a chain of glass shattering and the lights go out in unison.

By the time they've got the backups started, we've disappeared.

The trainers swivel their weapons back and forth, searching for a target. The flag is sitting in a barricaded base in which two trainers guard. Each time they change the rotations of the trainers, and the count of them. But it's all the same to us.

"211, kill the lights," I say to 211 who throws sharp metal slivers and takes out each and every one of the backup lights. "Lets move out," I say.

Parkson acts as our sniper, using a rifle to pique the attention of the trainers as we make our way to the base. Kia acts as our rabbit, running in and out to distract the trainers. She stays at the very edges of their radar, only showing a glimpse of herself for a split second.

We slip undetected by the off-set trainers. They can barely see anything in the darkness. Their suits are only adjusted to low level lighting.

Once we reach the bunker, I make a fist at the entrance and split my fist into two fingers held apart. 211 gets it and makes his way to the other doorway. The guards are standing in the doorways and keeping guard, unaware of the Spartans not two feet from them. I make a fist...count to three...and attack the trainer.

He screams in pain and surprise as I chop the back of his neck and force his head up sharply by slamming my palm into his chin. 211 had troubles with his target, but managed to subdue him with pure strength and forced his shooting weapon to fire on the other trainers, bringing two down before the trainer stopped firing.

211 discards the body and picks up the flag and activates his 1 minute invisibility cloak.

We slip out unnoticed, and back to the starting room where Parkson and Kia were waiting. I lean the flag against the wall and pull back the black skin-tight mask. "Another game well-done. Good job, team," I say. We slap high-fives and leave the room, heading to the showers.

We are fully adjusted to our new bodies now. We are super quick and much smarter then before, much more then Hokai and Waylen ever expected. We are Spartans, the protectors of the UNSC and her colonies.

Our first mission starts in two months, two more months of training. We can start any time now. But I think the techies want to watch us for a while.

We are supposed to get our Spartan armor today, after a month of arriving in this secret training facility. I've heard snatches of conversation from the techies and personnel posted here, and I think that we'll be getting the same suits of armor. Except for me, the squad leader who will be getting black armor. It's what i've heard. And it sounds intriguing.

After our showers, we are dressed in a skin-tight once-piece clothing that I can only name as underarmor. It is an inch thick and feels relatively light-weight.

After we dress in the underarmor, we are instructed to meet in the hanger where we load into a military troop carrier warthog and sent into the large main tunnel that delves deep into the earth and holds many different rooms that branch off from the tunnel. The tunnel is paved with smooth asphalt, a material that hasn't been used for hundreds of years. The overhead lights do little to light the path, and give the area a grim demeanor.

It is an hour ride down the 25% grade where it levels off after fifteen minutes. The distance between each door begins to be smaller and smaller as we go along. Each door is marked with eye scans, DNA checks, and metal (and other foreign object) detectors. We are getting into the more closed area that ONI has been keeping secret for years now.

At the end of the road lays a _huge_ cylindrical door that opens vertically as the Warthog drives up to it.

We hop out onto the metal floor and scan the room.

The room is the size of a football field, and has a very high ceiling. The room is littered with all sorts of equipment that (to this day) I don't recognize.

Waylen appears from behind four cylindrical tubes, grasping a clipboard in her left hand. "Welcome to the area where all of the Projects are put together. You will be the very first test subjects in project Freebird. If you will come this way, you will be fitted with your armor," Waylen says and guides us towards the four cylindrical tubes.

"Open the armor," Waylen says into a communicator.

The tube's hatches hiss open and pull back to reveal four sets of Mjolnir Mark V armor.

The four suits look the same, except for my armor which is black with a blue stripe on the helmet and chestplate which, i assume, indicates me as squad leader. There are individual markings on each of the shoulder pieces for the different suits. On Parkson's suit is what looks like a bomb and a Sniper round. On 211's armor is a warthog with a missile attachment and a shotgun. On Kia's armor is a pelican with a chingun and a combat blade. On mine is a pelican with an assault rifle. I'm assuming the icons show what we specialize in.

Each of the tubes are highly illuminated by high power lights set in the top "ceiling" of the tubes, so I can clearly see each shining piece of armor in great detail.

Each tube is decorated with its own numbers, "332, 333, 334, 211" number the tubes from left to right. "These are ours..." I whisper, despite myself. "If you would please step in front of your respective suits, we will get started with the fitting process," Waylen says, stepping back as a machine rolls in. It has a number of "arms" that stick out from its box body.

"Now stay perfectly still," Waylen says as the Robot comes to surround me. My eyes dart around, looking the Robot up and down and watching it as it takes apart the armor and reassembles it onto my body.

The different pieces feel very heavy at first, but then become as light as air as they come online. Once the helmet is placed over my head, the HUD comes online. The HUD is filled with a radar, grenade readout, armor readouts, bio reads, weapon readouts, and a curious light blue bar that its at the top of my vision. I don't ask what it is, i'll figure it out later.

"Now I just want you to think about moving your arm. Just think about it, envision it," Waylen says. I do so and my arm moves lightning-quick. It was a blur, almost unseen. 211 and Parkson draw in a sharp breath of amazement. Kia's eyes brighten up and she holds back an awed smile. I am instructed on how to move with the new armor, and I master the instructions as soon as they are told. "Good?" Waylen asks as I swing my arms slowly. "Good, ma'am," I reply. "Go use the obstacle course while your team is suited up," She says and turns to the other Spartans.

I slowly walk over to the obstacle course and spot a nine foot wall. The concrete wall overlooks the obstacle course, but isn't part of it.

I back up a few steps, and sprint forwards. I am amazed by which the speed my body reacts as I coil my muscles and leap over the wall, landing with a roll on the other side.I look back and grin, then take off to do the rest of the course.

I vault barriers and crawl under barbed wire barriers in record time as bullets whizz past overhead. I even let a few bullets hit me, just to see what it would do. The armor flares up in a bright orange light that fades after a moment. The bar at the top of my HUD refills after dropping. "Interesting," I mutter. I hear thuds and clanks and turn to see 211 flying over the wall. He lands with a very ungraceful roll that looked more like a summersault.

"Ow," 211 says, standing up. "Next time, go around the wall," Kia says, approaching us. Parkson appears from behind her, studying the course as he walks.

As I make observations, waypoints appear over their heads and mark my team's names. Parkson-333, Spartan-211, and Kia-334 hover over their heads.

"Nueral interface. Awesome!" 211 says. "Neural COM's, too," Kia says over the TEAMCOM. "Wow, I am in love," I say with a chuckle. Parkson nods in agreement and jerks his head towards the obstacle course and takes off.

It takes a good twenty minutes for my team to get used to their new armor. We have to create a new system in which to understand each other again. But when we finally do, it's better then ever.

I find that they had taken Hokai's blade from me when I hadn't noticed and put it onto my armor. It sits on the left shoulder in a sheath.

A blue triangle pops up over by the door in which we came through. We hesitate before going to it. "Welcome back, Spartans," Waylen says. "We will proceed in taking off your armor. Afterwards, please proceed back to your barracks."

They remove our armor and we board the Warthog which climbs the hill and drops us off at the door which leads to our training area. We head back to our Barracks and spot Hokai standing with his hands clasped behind his back. We all stop and snap a salute as soon as we see him.

The first thing i recognize is that his short head of hair has turned completely gray, and he is wearing formal attire with his magnum clipped to his thigh.

"At ease, Spartans," he says with a sad note to his usually emotionless voice. "I have come here today to say my final goodbyes. I have trained you soldiers well, but now your training is out of my hands. I hope that the things I have taught you, you will remember. I hope that you will not remember me as the dreadful trainer, but as the man who shaped you into the perfect soldiers that you are today."

And after a moment...he leaves. I never see him again after that, not even a glimpse. I find out that he was killed during a Covenant raid on a military base on Reach. It was heart breaking news. But i had no doubt that he went out with a bang.

We go to bed with heavy hearts, and racing minds. I can't stop thinking about Hokai's words and how he said them. " _I hope that you will not remember me as the dreadful trainer, but as the man who shaped you into the perfect soldiers that you are today._ " That sentence repeats itself over and over again in my mind. I flip it over and go over every possible meaning. But there isn't any more then one possible meaning, the obvious ones. I find out that night that Hokai truly cared about us, no matter how little he showed it. He truly wanted what was best for us and acted as our father. Guiding us and watching out for us. And for that, I loved him for it.


	7. Chapter Six

**0400 hours, October 23rd, 2542 [MILITARY CALENDAR]\ Pikran System, Pikran 3, Inside Underground Facility**

Armor training takes another month in which we master the suits, which we have to know the names of. 211's suit is EVA, Parkson's is EOD, and mine and Kia's is Air Assault. They each specialize in what we specialize in. Me and Kia prefer air battles over ground, Parkson loves explosives, and 211 prefers ground attack vehicles and close combat.

We are scheduled for another month of training, but that is cut short as an incident occurs.

I am walking through the halls, heading to the gym. The gym is where I can relax, think things through. It's where I'm calmest.

As I round a corner...something shifts in front of me. It was the slightest distortions in the air, but I caught it.

I flatten myself against the wall as a fist sails inches past my face. I reach out and grab the wrist and jerk it behind the attacker's back. The shimmer turns into an eight foot tall...alien. It has four mandibles and small, beady eyes that seem soulless. It stands bi-pedal with dog-like legs that end in two fat toes. Its arm is long and black with four fingers that wrap around my neck and slam me against the wall.

The attack came out of nowhere and was too sudden that I could barely comprehend it.

I fight back against the attacker in vain. It's too strong and I'm not strong enough to fight back without my armor.

211 suddenly comes out of nowhere and slams into the alien shoulder first. The alien stumbles back from his hit and 211 stands in front of me. "The hell is that thing?" He says. "No idea, but it's not friendly," I say and take out Hokai's blade then flip it around in my hand. "Come on," I challenge.

The attacker grabs a sort of stick from its belt and flicks it on. A two pronged blade activates with a zap. The blade is blue and fairly transparent and buzzes with energy.

There's a full minute stand-off before the alien charges, swinging the blade overhead and bringing it down on 211. I go under his swing and slam into his chest head-first before he can hit him. My head slams into his exposed abdomen and drives him back. I wrap my arms around his waist and slam him into the wall. He drops his blade from the sudden impact and I grab it. 211 retrieves my combat blade as I back off from the alien and shoves the attacker's right arm up and drives the blade into the exposed abdomen.

The alien cries out in an unknown language and tries to fight back at 211 but he removes the blade and side-steps then slams the blade into the alien's mouth. The alien gives a gurgled cry, spits up purple blood, and dies.

The alien collapses as 211 rips the bloodied blade from its mouth and lets the massive body fall to the ground.

We stand there for what seems like forever, panting and watching the body. 211 breaks the silence by rolling over the alien and examining it. "Not human, that's for sure," he says, crouching down by its side.

It wears white colored armor with an open helmet and a chestplate that covers its upper torso. The armor's material is like that of which we had never seen, alien.

"Get the techies down here. They'll no doubt want to examine it," I say and hide the alien's energy blade.

I want to keep it to examine myself. It was my first ever kill, and I wanted a trophy from it. But little did I know at the time, this Energy Sword would come to save my life in many occasions.

I obsess over the blade for many hours. They know I have it, but they let me keep it. I practice with it openly for hours on end, studying it with curiosity as I try to figure out how it was made.

It has a golden colored hilt and a blue color that swirls around the design. Both of which interest me. I quickly figure out the blade isn't solid after I slice a desk in half by accident.

By the time we're called to the Major's office for briefing, I've become very good with the Energy Sword.

We enter the room and salute the Major as he nods to us. "At ease, Spartans. As two of you already know, we have encountered a new species completely unknown to us. They are threatening the human race, they threaten to eradicate us. There are five known species within the Covenant," The major says, waving to a holo-TV which lowers from the ceiling.

"The Elite's," The major says. A graph appears of the Alien we encountered a few weeks earlier, the one me and 211 killed. "They are a bi-pedal species, believed to be the head species within the army known as the Covenant. There is said to be four known ranks amongst the Elites. Minor, Zealot, General, and Councilor." Graphs show up showing each of their armor and their threat level. The Minor's threat level is green, low threat. The Zealot is red, as well as the General. The councilor's threat level is black, extremely dangerous.

"Grunts." A graph appears showing a short alien with a stunted face. it wears a gas-mask over its short face and has a triangular tank on its back. It has short and stubby legs which end in short claws. "They are numerous and believed to be the lowest in the Covenant armada. They are cannon-fodder, and throw themselves at a target until either their numbers are depleted or the target is dead."

"Jackals." The screen changes to a creature that reminds me of a starved coyote. It has feathers on the back of its head and its snout resembles a beak, long and hooked. It has arms which are adorned at the elbow with feathers. It is bi-pedal and holds a circular blue shield. "These make up a good percent of the Covenant. They are their snipers and infantry men. They hold shields which rely on energy and are not easily destroyed, but can be overpowered."

The screen expands and widens to show a large hulking creature with thick armor. "Hunters." These hunters have huge shields on their right arm and cannons on their left. They have spines on their back, and armor all over. "They are the "tanks" of the army. Due to their heavy armor, they move slowly. But their cannons shoot deadly plasma rounds that incinerate unarmored personnel. They use their shields to hit nearby targets, crushing them.

The screen shifts again to show small creatures with four wings. "Drones." They are like insects with exoskeleton bodies and large, wide eyes. Their feet are curled as well. "They are the aerial attack species. They are slaves to the Covenant and are used in large numbers to overwhelm their victims."

The screen retracts and the lights come back online. "These are the creatures you will be fighting. They have been known for more then five years now. We have been training you specifically to fight these enemies. But time has run out, and we need you to fight now. You are being shipped out to the front lines to help Marines who are in trouble. You will be there for more then a week. Do you understand, Spartans?" The Major says. "Sir, yes sir!" We all reply.

We are dismissed and head down to the hanger where we find our pelican. Our pilot meets us with disgust, and then fear as Kia glares at him.

"Must you do that to every marine that looks at you?" 211 asks her as they enter the Pelican and take their seats. "Don't glare at us, and you won't get glared back at. It's a simple fix," she says and places her helmet on her head.

I feel queasy as usual as the Pelican leaves the planet and heads out to the waiting Frigate. The Frigate will go into slipspace which will take almost a month, in which time we'll be traveling to the Jirack System, to planet Graff to fight on the frontlines.

This will be our first mission and it won't be easy, being frontlines and all. But I guess that's what we were training for. I've been hearing bits and pieces about the true Spartan II program. It sounds a lot less intense then ours was. Starting out with "easy" missions and more time to build up to the fight.

Parkson is worrying me. He hasn't spoken a single word since the augmentations. We have been too busy for me to question him about it, however. I'll figure that out later. For now, I need to focus on the matter at hand. Parkson's problem can wait.


	8. Chapter Seven

**0900 hours, November 12th, 2542 [MILITARY CALENDAR]\ Jirack System, Planet Graff**

A mask is fitted over my face and a needle is injected into my skin.

I remember this, it was the day of our Augmentation. But something is wrong, I should be asleep by now. I am still fully awake as they prep for surgery. Panic rushes through me, but I can't move. I can't speak, I can't do anything. I watch the doctors hover over me with their instruments and fear what's coming next. "Begin incision," The surgeon says.

Something tears into my body and unimaginable pain shoots through my nerves. I scream silently on the inside, unable to release it.

I can feel them digging around, cutting me open to expose my muscle tissue and bones.

The pain lasts for hours, with a brief rest in between.

"Subject-333 has been successfully augmented. Moving to recovery wing," A surgeon says.

I snap awake and sit up. I instantly begin gagging as something foul rises in the back of my throat. I lean over the Cyro tube and hack up the gunk that they put into your mouth during stasis. I wipe my mouth and shake my head, stepping out of the tube. My team is waking up around me, the cryo-storage room is all but empty. We must have been woken up last.

For a few seconds, I consider my dream. I recognize 333...Parkson's numbers. But what the hell happened? It was too real to be a dream. But I don't have much time to dwell on it as the others emerge from their tubes.

We stand in the room with only our underwear, which we became used to years ago.

"Why the gunk?" 211 says, wiping his mouth after he vomits up the stuff. "To keep our throats from going dry and to keep from barfing up our last meal," Kia says, fixing her hair which had come out of its bun during the stasis period. "Where are we?" 211 asks. "At our destination, i would assume," I say. "Lets get to the armory. I'm sure we need to get suited up," Kia says and leads the way to the armory where we get suited up and retrieve our weapons. They had taken my Energy Sword from me, but return it when I ask for it.

"Spartans to the hanger," A male's voice rings over the PA system.

We head down to the hanger and are given a Falcon to use when down there. We are also given rations for the week that we'll be there. If we need more, we're told to hunt.

We leave the frigate and find the base where we're oriented and given the coordinates to the city we'll be fighting in.

This planet is lost, all there is left now is to evacuate as many people as possible before they begin "glassing" the planet. Glassing means using their high powered weapons from their ships in high orbit and turning everything the beam touches to a hard surface that is reflective, much like glass. The Marines call it Glassing because of this reason.

We rise high over the land, clipping mountains and soaring over vast plains which quickly turn to barren deserts, which then turn into a barren landscape that is void of any life. The ground is battle scarred and the occasional shell of a vehicle, both human and Alien, scatters the area for miles. At the edge of the barren landscape lays a city. The city stretches for miles and miles. It was a very prosperous city, despite its remote location from any incoming and outgoing traffic. But the Covenant found it and attacked it, it was the last place to fall victim to them.

The large skyscrapers are smoking and in ruins, the sleek buildings are crumbling and on fire. The roads are abandoned. The main street, where the civilians would gather for their every day lives, is now the main center for the ongoing battle.

We weren't called to help fight the frontlines, we were called to help clean up the side areas, as in rescuing trapped Marines and civilians from the hands of the covenant.

We have no field experience, so we're very much curious as to why they have us helping this city and not the more experienced Spartans.

We drop in the outskirts of the city and gear up from there. "Alright, Spartans. Today is our first mission. Don't screw this up," I tell my team. "Why the hell would we screw this up? A bunch of hinge-heads haven't got anything on a group of Spartans!" Kia says with a grin. "Hell yeah!" 211 laughs. I shake my head, supressing a grin. "Lets get in there and fight some Aliens," I say and unsling my AR then take point.

We enter the city VIA the rooftops, silently making our way across them until we find our objective.

Our first objective is a low security Covenant encampment. It holds a small handful of Grunts and a few Jackals but no Elites or Hunters. there's a power source here that is giving power to some of the Anti-AA turrets in the area. The turrets are giving the transport's troubles as they try to get the Civilian and UNSC soldiers off of the planet.

I motion for Parkson and Kia to take up Sniping positions while me and 211 drop from the roofs and end up almost underneath the balcony.

The Aliens are careless with their patrol, not really having one. We watch them for any patterns, but it seems that they are just lazily standing around. "Move in, take the Jackal on the right. I'll get the left," I say to 211 who nods.

We didn't know at the time that Grunt's panic easily, so we skirt the Grunts like they are Hunters and stay out of their limited line of vision and make our way around the small courtyard.

The power core is a cylindrical device with an exposed core with weak shields surrounding the core which is held up with thin metal-like material. This place looks more like a temporary back-up power site then a major power supplier. This will more then likely temporarily cripple the Anti-AA until it gets another source of power. It'll give at least one of the transports enough time to get away.

I stop 211 as one of the Jackal's shifts. I then notice it's asleep. It's tilted head, slacked arms and relaxed posture are an obvious sign of slumber. Turns out both of the Jackal's are asleep by their mirrored posture.

I motion for the take-out and 211 moves forwards, drawing his knife and grabbing the Jackal by its long mouth. I grab the second Jackal and ram my blade into the front of its throat as hard as I can. My blade slips right through its soft neck and I almost stab my chestplate. I was expecting more resistance.

As soon as the Jackals go down, the Grunts panic. But Parkson and Kia take no chances and quickly take out the grunts."All clear," I call up to the two who slide down from the roof. Parkson kneels next to the explosive power supply and begins deactivating it. "Ugly SOB's aren't they?" Kia says, nudging one of the Jackals with her boot. Parkson stands with a nod. "Alright, there's another encampment 20 meters from here. They have some UNSC personnel in their custody. We're to free them with no mercy," I say. "Lets get to it then, wouldn't want them to escape," 211 says.

Kia and Parkson take to the rooftops while me and 211 keep to the ground level.

The streets are void of any life. Bodies of both civilians and soldiers litter the ground in clumps in certain areas. We ignore them and press on, eventually reaching a courtyard guarded by Jackal snipers.

We see the UNSC soldiers underneath a sun-block that extends 15 feet in the air. There used to be a bench sitting underneath the sun-block but it was ripped out by the Elites in order to store their prisoners.

There are ten UNSC soldiers and ten civilians stored in the area. We'll have to neutralize the targets before evacuating the prisoners. For our first mission, things are getting complicated already.

"Parkson, Kia. Take up sniping positions, take out the hunters on my signal. 211, you're with me. We'll go for the Jackals first," I say. "Which are the...Hunters?" 211 says, raising an eyebrow. "Do you not remember the briefing?" I ask him. "I wasn't paying too close attention..." He admits. "Yeah, I thought so. Just look for the biggest targets, alright?" I say.

We pull back from the alleyway and Kia hacks a door that allows us into the building. We come into a dark and destroyed kitchen which leads into a living room. There are two dead civilians in the middle of the floor, cooled needles in their backs. I ignore the people and climb the stairs which lead up to the second floor. There is an attic who's entrance has been broken, the stairs hang loosely from the hole. 211 climbs the stairs first before we come up with him. There's a hole in the attic, leading to the roof. Kia and Parkson climb it, positioning themselves on the roof next to us. We jump down and roll onto the next building's balcony, all the while never drawing the attention of the aliens below.

We climb down the stairs, and I stop 211 as we reach the lower story.

"Jackal," I whisper to him.

There's noises coming from the kitchen as the Jackal rummages through the ruins of the house. It finds something and eats it, and that's when we take our chance.

We advance, crouched and silent, to the end of the counter which walls the kitchen. We stop at the end of it, right behind the Jackal. It has the dark fridge open and is pulling out the shells of cans and rotten food. It finds a small scrap of food and downs it. I gesture for 211 to take it out.

He advances quickly, pulling his knife and grabbing the unsuspecting Jackal and ramming his blade into its throat. He doesn't make the same mistake I did as he quietly drops the Jackal's body.

I nod to him and we move to the door which leads to the courtyard.

"All clear out there?" I ask the two snipers. "All clear, you're free to advance," Kia reports. "Roger that," I reply and motion for 211 to stay behind me.

We exit the building, quickly getting behind a line of bushes which leads to an abandoned car. We crouch behind the car and I nod to 211 who primes a grenade and judges the distance, then lobs it in between two jackals. They jump from the blast and are showered with shrapnel, their shields deflecting the damage. An Elite, who I assume is the leader, checks out the explosion but doesn't do much about it other then yell at the two jackals. We hadn't seen the shields from our first Jackals, so we hadn't known about them. And this was a complete surprise to us. None-the-less, we advance further and find ourselves right behind the place where the human prisoners are being held. It's a small depression where the walkway is put into the ground a few feet, and there we wait. "I'll take the Jackals. You get the prisoners out," I say to 211 who nods his acknowledgement.

There are two loud explosions, and two inhuman voices cry out, followed by two thuds as the bodies hit the ground. "There go the Hunters," I whisper.

I climb the wall and come up behind the prisoner's area, staying out of view of the fully alert Jackals who cradle their weapons carefully.

I gesture for 211 to flank right, and he nods.

We advance and I take out two of the Jackals before the rest take notice of us. Plasma fire erupts all around us as 211 herds the prisoners out of the courtyard, with the help of Parkson and Kia. I'm left in a situation, a bad one. I've been trapped in a building with no access to the rooftops or to any kind of exit. I've relocated myself into the attic and pulled up the stairs. I only have to hide out until Parkson and Kia arrive, but they're moving slowly because they don't want to be detected. The Covenant are pushing into the lower levels, flooding the living room and kitchen. I can hear their footsteps and shouts as they set up a perimeter so I can't escape.

An Elite prowls the rooms below me, searching for the entrance to the attic.

Tense minutes pass as I hide next to the attic's entrance, waiting for the Elite to show its ugly head. But when it does, the elite catches me off guard with a boot to my back.

The Elite had found a second entrance, and had snuck up on me! I had underestimated their stealth, and had payed for it.

My blade flies from my grasp as I slam into the wall, shoulder first. I fall to my stomach and try to reach for my blade, but the Elite is too fast and he stomps on my hand, laughing in his alien way as he does so. I grit my teeth and twist my body and pull my fingers away from his feet and slam my fist into his groin. He stumbles back from the unexpected force from the attack and I take the chance to retrieve my blade and side-step the alien and then cut him in the back. But, again, he catches me unexpected as he pulls an energy sword and hits me in the side of the head with it.

Sparks fly as my helmet flies off from the impact and lands across the empty attic, away from my reach. I fall to my stomach and scramble to my back, barely managing to dodge the blade as the alien strikes at me. He says something in his alien language as he backs me into a corner. I'm without any weapons, and he's got me cornered. I don't even have my helmet. My first mission is going horribly.

I hear noises and hear two other elites climbing the stairs to the attic. I'm screwed if Kia and parkson don't get here in time.

the other two Elites appear, both with Energy Swords. They surround me and glare down at me. Their helmets are closed, but have large visors. The glow from the Swords illuminates their heads within their helmets. They are grinning, which is strange looking coming from an alien. But there's no mistaking it.

They trade words, and the original Elite rears back his arm and says something to me before striking.

I time it right, and I roll to the left. But the blade still cuts me with the farthest edge and leaves a gash down my face. I ignore the pain and jump to my feet as two figures appear from nowhere and tackle the two of the three Elites. The first Elite turns to face the newcomers, turning his back on his victim. last mistake.

I swiftly climb to my feet and jump on the Elite's back legs and seize his head in my hands. I jump off of the Elite and bring his head with me, twisting sharply. I am satisfied with a snap and the Elite shows no more resistance as his body falls to the ground.

Kia and parkson bring down their targets and sweep the room before turning their attention to me. "Nasty wound you have there," kia says, tossing a canister of biofoam to me. I catch the canister as parkson finds my helmet. He wipes the dust from it as I apply the biofoam to my wound which was beginning to really hurt. The biofoam soothes the pain and clots the blood.

"Thanks," i say to parkson who hands me my helmet. I put it back on and roll my shoulders then retrieve my combat blade and sheath it.

"Where's 211?" I ask the two after Parkson pulls me through the new hole in the roof. "He's taken the soldiers to a Pelican that was held behind for extraction. I'm assuming they made it there safe, I haven't heard different," Kia says as Parkson sweeps the area for threats. "Lets get-" but before I can finish my next sentence, our COM comes alive with a frantic message. "All personnel, evacuate from the city immediately! The Covenant are glassing the planet. Evacuate now!"

"Oh crap," Kia says and looks to the sky where a Covenant Cruiser can be seen drifting down out of the clouds. It's massive, and is followed by two others.

"Get down, get down now!" I yell to the two.

We slide down the right side of the building and away from the courtyard. We land in a closed yard with glass entrance into a house. "It has a basement. it's our bet chance for survival," Kia says. "Lead the way, and do it fast," I say.

Me and Parkson follow the female Spartan to the door which leads into the basement. We find that its locked, so Kia kicks it down and we flood inside, just in time.

We stand in the middle of the room, flashlights flooding from our helmets and illuminating the dark room. Dust has been kicked up from our arrival and partially clouds our vision. We don't want to use night vision just yet.

"First beam will hit in two minutes," Kia says, consulting her tacpad. "Why so long?" I ask. "They need to get their people out. Gives them enough time to do so," Kia replies.

We wait for what seems like forever, and then the air begins getting hotter as a low rumble can be heard. "Here it comes," kia says, crouching low. Just after she says that, all hell breaks loose.

The beam slams into the house and completely obliterates it. the ceiling is brought down and knocks all three of us down. A screaming noise is mixed in with the crumbling chaos of the collapsing building. All three of us lock our armor to avoid the worst of damage, but we still get a beating.

Rubble covers me and blocks my view from my teammates, and it's not long before something hits me and knocks me out.


	9. Chapter Eight

**1400 hours, November 12th, 2542 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Feloot System, Planet Hower, Planet Hower's frontlines**

Once I awaken, I feel a huge mound of broken concrete on top of me. I fight back the urge to cough as my suit comes online and vents the dust and excess air that had built up. I sit still for a moment before shoving away the rubble with my arms. I climb atop the mound, crouching on one knee. The ceiling and most of the walls had come down on us, but luckily for us the rubble had shifted and piled up elsewhere so not much had fallen on us, and the glassing beam fortunately hadn't passed over us.

"Kia, Parkson, you still here?" I call out over our TEAMCOM.

It's midday, which means we've been out for a couple of hours. The air reeks of smoke, and is incredibly hot. The basement's dust had settled, so I can see clearly. And what I see is a destroyed house that i can't believe is standing.

My skin is raw and blistering as the biolayer rubs against it. But I ignore the obvious pain and focus on searching for my friends instead.

I hear the rubble shift to my left and turn to see Parkson's fist breaking through the destroyed pile. He grabs a hold of a particuarly large piece and shoves it aside, then climbs out and keeps crouched on one knee. He shakes his head and looks at me after looking around the room. "You alright?" I ask him. He nods and goes over to where Kia last was after a few moments pause. He pulls the concrete and various other materials off of her and helps her out after waking her up. "Hell of a time, eh boys?" Kia says, bringing her tacpad online. "We've been out for five hours. The city is silent, no one's left."

"Did 211 get out?" I ask as i suddenly realize that my Assault rifle is gone. I check for my Energy Sword and find it still fitted on my thigh. "I don't think so. I'm not reading any reports of a Spartan on the rosters. I am getting a faint UNSC tag. Could be him," Kia says. "Only one way to find out," I say and take point out of the building, Energy Sword in hand.

The city is demolished. Leveled buildings, trashed streets, glowing surfaces, dead bodies. We never knew that the Covenant were so powerful. And as we walk through the city, searching for our teammate, we start to get a good idea on what the Covenant are after. Complete and utter destruction.

Its so quiet. Such a busy city reduced to dead silence. Not even the constant gunfire can be heard from the front lines. Absolutely nothing remains, except for us. Three wanderers looking for their friend who might not even be alive.

There is a huge trail of destruction marked by flattened buildings. The trail, which is flat, has a shiny surface which resembles glass and still glows red hot. It's obviously where the beam came through.

We come to what looks like battle grounds. Bodies of both human and aliens litter the area and shattered shells of vehicles pepper the streets. A crashed Falcon sticks out of a skyscraper, its charred remains occasionally falling onto the frozen chaos below.

As we pass a pile of melted concrete, the pile shifts. All three of us whip around to it and raise our weapons. Kia and Parkson had gathered a couple of weapons on the way. Kia had found a DMR and Parkson found a Magnum.

"Hey!" A voice cries from inside of the pile. "Don't kill me! I just survived a freaking Glassing Beam!"

We recognize the annoyed sounding voice and I move to uncover the Spartan.

As soon as the rubble is clear enough, I grab 211's forearm and jerk him out of the pile. His body breaks through the concrete and he climbs to his feet.

His armor is covered in scrapes and dust, but he's alive.

"Good to have you back, Spartan," I say to him. "Good to be back, sir," He says. "The city's abandoned. Other then the unlikely survivor, we're the only ones left," Kia says, casting her eyes to the sky where giant plumes of smoke dissipate far up in the atmosphere.

"We'd better get going then. It's going to be a while before we get back," I say and nod to 211 to take point.

211 hefts a Shotgun which is just as dirty as he is. It's handhold is dented and it looks well used. 211 grabs shells from his utility pack and loads them into his weapon.

We make for the freeway which leads out of the city. Cars and military vehicles are strewn all along the road. Burned bodies lay near the vehicles, both human and alien. "Man, this was one fight," 211 says quietly. "Come on, we need to move," I say, not looking at the carnage. If there's one rule of war, it's stay detached from everything but what's in front of you. Don't pay attention to the faces, don't think about it. If you do, you'll fall into a pit of depression. And as a soldier, you can't afford that.

We reach a point in the road where the pavement has been completely crushed in several places. The rubble lays at an angle, and the material beneath has been pounded to dust. "The hell made this?" 211 says, crouching down to examine it. "Something huge, looks like a vehicle," I say.

"And it's coming back for another round!" Kia yells from her vantage point atop a toppled Semi Trailer. I join her atop the trailer and jump back down, pointing as I speak. "Parkson, set up explosives. 211, keep that thing at bay as long as you can. Kia, pick off the aliens on the walkways," i say. "Lets see if we can't bring it down."

The vehicle has four legs and a large head which looks at us as it crawls over the skyscraper's rubble. A large weapon slowly turns to aim at us as its legs clear the building. Pronged covers protect the joints and bounce as it moves. The entire vehicle is heavily armored, and there is only one entrance that I can see. But the entrance is guarded by an Elite and a Grunt while Jackals patrol the inner area.

As it nears, we get into position. It climbs over and I can clearly see the Covenant enemies onboard, watching us. The top gun glows green and I recognize the look of a plasma weapon. "Break formation! Move!" I yell.

I dive for cover as Kia hops off of the trailer and both 211 and Parkson jump behind cover. My back slams into the barricade just as the plasma weapon fires with a blast of hot air and an explosion as it hits a vehicle. The large mass climbs onto the freeway and faces us. Minor plasma fire begins firing off as the aliens onboard fire at us as the weapon recharges. The head watches us as Parkson peeks over their cover. "Parkson, detonate it, now!" I yell to the Spartan as the weapon charges to its max and begins to fire again. The weapon would incinerate us. And no matter how fast we moved, we would still suffer major injuries. Crippling injuries.

Parkson waits a moment, then activates the explosives.

There are four explosions that sound off at the base of the machine. The plasma weapon fires into the air, missing us by a mile as the two back joints are taken out. The vehicle's rear end lowers to the ground and I charge it.

I grab onto the edge and pull myself up. The Elite manning the plasma turret goes flying as I grab the turret and jerk it off, kicking the alien off and not stopping to watch as the Elite falls.

I quickly dispatch the Grunts and jackals on the lower level and brace myself as the vehicle jerks and begins moving again. I double-tap the aliens, taking no chances.

I crouch along the hallway, waiting and listening for any movements. I remember that I have the Energy Sword and take it out, flicking it on and staying put.

Four resounding thuds collide down the hull as explosives are launched at the giant vehicle and its occupants. I move forwards, knowing that my team has opened fire. I hear the aliens shouting and firing on the upper level, running back and forth as the giant vehicle stomps closer and closer to my team.

I need to move fast, eliminate every living thing and then find some way to take out the vehicle before they wipe out my team. They're good and fast, but all of this power can easily overwhelm.

At the end of the hallway, I count to five and charge out onto the upper platform and dig the Energy sword into the small of the first Elite's back. I rip it out and sever a Jackal's head from his shoulders and impale two Grunts before the rest even have time to react. But when they do, they react violently. The aliens open fire with plasma rounds and plasma grenades. Chaos erupts as I quickly duck and dodge the frantic rounds. Soon enough, everyone is dead and different colored blood splatters the upper deck. I flick the energy Sword off and clip it to my thigh after doing a triple check.

"I've cleared the vehicle," I tell my team. "Can you deactivate it or something?" 211 asks. "I can try. I might have to destroy the core," I answer. It's Kia who surprises me with a sudden cry. "No!" it startles all of us, it was quite shrill. "No. The UNSC might need it for...their own purposes." It sounds more like _she_ wants to study it. After a moment of considering, I decide to deactivate it instead of destroying it. "Alright. I'll try and bring it offline. You three try and get up here as quick as you can. I don't know if I'll need backup or not," I say and head down the hallway, keeping my Assault Rifle at the ready, just in case.

I find the core room which sits adjacent to the opening. I have no idea how I missed that...

I spot a console on the core's left wall and investigate. After a few seconds, I find out it's a control console of sorts that gives the vehicle, a Scarab, targets.

We were taught during training how to read these kind of consoles and how to operate them. Only the basics, really. But enough to figure out what we needed to know.

"Hm..." I mutter and open up the console and find the targeting parameters. I then delete all of the targets, and am rewarded with a soft lurch as the Scarab comes to a stop.

I go to the back entrance and see my team running up to it. "You got it stopped?" 211 asks. "Yes. Just deleted its targeting parameters," I say and grab 211's forearm and help him up. 211 helps up Kia and I help up Parkson.

"So...this monster replies to commands?" Kia mutters as she works the console. Kia's our Techie. She's the expert in all things technological. Sure, we all have the same basic training. But Kia's knowledge goes far deeper then the basics.

She absentmindedly taps her little finger on the side of the console as she works through it. "I can program it to return us to our Bird, or I can program it to return us to the nearest UNSC base that hasn't been evacuated," Kia says, pulling back from the console and turning to us. "What'll it be?"

"Well, what do you guys think?" I ask 211 and Parkson. As usual, Parkson says nothing but just shrugs. "Go to the base. They probably want an intact Covenant vehicle," 211 says. "That's my vote."

I look to Kia who nods to 211. "I agree with him. UNSC would want this thing," She says. I nod and say, "Then it's settled. Kia, set a course for the nearest base. Lets go home."


	10. Chapter Nine

**1841 hours, November 12th, 2542 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Feloot System, In orbit over Planet Hower, UNSC Surragate**

We drop off the Scarab with little troubles, even though we almost get blasted by the base's defences. After we leave the vehicle in their hands, we are shipped to the UNSC Surragate and are told that we are going back into cryo-stasis for a three month long trip to Reach where we'll be stationed until further notice.

We are given an hour before we are to head to the cryo tubes which gives us an hour to talk about our first mission and how it went. We should be too professional for this, to compare kills. But we were young, only teenagers. Even though we were professionally trained soldiers, our younger side did sometimes show.

Once back in our assigned room, we begin talking about the mission. It first starts out with Kia teasing me about my new scar, and then 211 explaining how he got stuck under the rubble, and it eventually ended with me talking about the kills on the Scarab.

"Scarab? What kind of name is that for a vehicle? it looks nothing like a bug," Kia says. "Hey, I didn't name it. I just retrieved the offical name. The UNSC name anyways," I say with a shrug and peel off my sweat shirt. "Nasty." I toss the shirt on my bed and lean back on the mattress. "I'd say the mission went well, what do you think?" 211 asks. "You kidding? Everyone died. We didn't acomplish our mission, plus we got owned by a Glassing Beam!" Kia exclaims angrily. "But at least we got out alive," I say with some heat. "If everyone dies and you can't do anything about it, then you have to focus on your team. If your team dies, then focus on yourself. You hear me? Don't get mad about what happened. Take it as a learning experience. Learn that the Covenant mean business, that they're strong and ruthless. Learn to protect those that cannot protect themselves."

Each Spartan grins and 211 jumps up and snaps a salute. "Sir, yes sir!" he replies with energy. Kia does the same and parkson follows. "Sir, yes sir!" Kia echoes with a grin. 211 mirrors that grin, and Parkson wears a smile that shows the fight that burns inside of him that words can no longer utter.

We pass the hour by laughing and chatting, waiting until we get the call to head down to cryo-storage.

Once we get the order we leave our barracks and head down the spaceship's large hallways to the cryo-storage rooms where we shower and strip down to our underwear. We are assigned cryo-tubes and are accompanied by doctors as we climb into the tubes. As I pass one of them, I see the face of one of the crew members who is asleep.

I pull myself into the tube and put the small yellow glob onto the roof of my mouth and lay my head down. I watch as the tube's hatch is lowered over me and my view from the outside area is cut off. The tube grows cold, but I don't feel too much of it as I soon fall asleep.

 **TIME UNKNOWN, January 23rd, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Hovorta System, near planet Juve.**

 **[ALERT. UNKNOWN CONTACT OFF STARBOARD BOW.**

 **ATTEMPTING COMMUNICATIONS**

 **COMMUNICATIONS FAILED. HOSTILE CONTACTS CONFIRMED.**

 **SITUATION COMPROMISED. INITIATE COLE PROTOCOL.**

 **THAWING BLUE TEAM]**

I sleep for about two months until I am awoken very suddenly and with no warning.

The tube is dark, and it's fairly cold still. The hatch hasn't opened and no one is outside. I hear nothing and see nothing. My mind is still groggy and my throat is horribly dry and caked with something nasty tasting, no doubt the cryo gunk. I move my arms which respond sluggishly and push against the hatch. It doesn't budge, so I push again, harder this time. The hatch breaks off and slams into the low ceiling which is truly a shelf. I shove off the hatch which had disconnected and climb out to find the room pitch-black, except for a slow red pulsing light. I recognize that light, it's the emergency light that is activated only when the ship is in dire trouble.

I take note that the room is hot. I feel that it should be of more alarm, but I dismiss it. I find my team's tubes and deactivate them, trying to avoid looking at the other cyro-tubes as I wait for them to awaken.

They crawl out in a daze, 211 complaining about the darkness. "Something's wrong. We're not supposed to be awake yet," Kia says as Parkson crawls out as well. "Life support is failing. Can't you guys feel the heat?" 211 notes. I nearly facepalm, cursing my stupidity. "Something went wrong. We need arms. Lets head down to the armory to gear up," I say. "Shouldn't we head to the bridge first?" Kia asks. "I have a feeling that the bridge won't be much help," I say and go to the door at the end of the hallway.

I catch sight of one of the cyro tubes, and hate what I see. "Well...that'd be why we are awake," 211 says grimly.

The person in the tube is thawed, but they're dead. A burn of sorts has been seared into their forehead. Their eyes are open, suggesting that they were awake when they were killed. The hatch is halfway open, as well as a couple of others.

"Covenant, no doubt," Kia says. "I have a feeling that's the fate of the rest of the ship," 211 says. "No doubt. Lets get moving," I say and open the door that leads to the outside hallway.

A body falls forwards as the doors slide open. A large plasma burn covers his entire back. He wears the uniform of a coms officer from the bridge. His face is frozen in an expression of terror and agony.

We jump back as he falls, but soon realize he's dead. "No doubt about it now," 211 says, stepping over the body.

We double time it through the dark corridors and make it to the armory in time to avoid being caught. We easily find our armor stored in the hanger but find out that we can't access the weapons. "We'll have to find our own weapons," I say to the others.

"We need to find out where we are. Parkson, Kia, you go find the interstellar map. Me and 211 will go find the nearest planet," I say and nod to 211 who follows me as I take off down the hallway.

We head down to the mapping room and find two Jackals inside. I motion to 211 who quietly flanks right as i go left. They are staring up at the mapping projection, no doubt trying to find Earth. Luckily, the Cole Protocol was put into act right before the Captain was killed and no information was available

211 converges on his target and I do as well. We seize their heads and jerk them sharply. We are rewarded with snaps as their necks break. The bodies drop and I move to the console. "The AI has been destroyed, the ship is flying blind," I say as the system comes online.

A system of planets is shown, each different in its own way. This system used to be home to a remote colony of humans. The UNSC had little to do with them, and just wiped their planet off of the maps when it was glassed. "The nearest habitable planet is a little ways away. An old colony. We'll have to steal a ship to be able to reach it," I say and look to 211 who is watching the door intently. "A patrol is coming. They might see the bodies," he says. "Grab a pistol, we'll fight them. Any Elites?" I ask him. He listens a moment before shaking his head. "Jackals and Grunts," he says. "Flank the door, we'll take them down as they enter," I say. We grab the two Jackal's plasma pistols and make for our positions.

Within a moment, we are waiting on either side of the door, hidden in shadow. The room is dim, the only illumination coming from the console screen.

The shuffling and snorting of the Grunts comes first. By the sound of it, there are five. The clicking of the Jackal's feet follows as well as their chatter. They are relaxed, their guard is down.

I look to 211 who nods and gets ready to fire.

A few seconds pass and the patrol gets closer. The Grunts stop and say something to the Jackals who pick up their pace. They enter the room, their bird-like frames walking right past us. They find the bodies...and we open fire.

Green bullets erupt from each of our guns as we aim at the aliens. Their screams can be heard ringing through the air. Within seconds, each of the aliens are dead.

"Crap," I hiss. "Didn't think about that," 211 mutters. "Come on. We need to find the others," I tell 211 who follows me through the ship to find the other Spartans. "Kia, where are you?" I call out over a secure TEAMCOM channel. "We're in the mapping center. I'll tell you more when you get here. Something's got the Covies riled up," the female Spartan says. I wince once she says that. "Copy that. We're on our way," I say and cancel the channel.

We make our way quickly through the dark corridors and meet up with the rest of the team in the mapping center.

"We came out in an unknown sector. Once the ship came out of jump, they were ambushed by something called a 'Supercarrier'. It sounds bad. There is a single ship outside, but this ship is swarming with Covenant. We will be able to escape to the nearest planet, only a few minutes away. We can hide out until the Covies leave and contact the UNSC. We're still within radar range," Kia says, working at the controls. She closes it out and turns to me, crossing her arms. "What were you thinking? Using weapons? Luckily you got out in time...but now they know there's still someone alive on the ship. Security will be tighter then before. We have to get out soon," Kia says. "I know. That was a stupid mistake. But lets focus on getting out alive," I say and lead them out of the room and into the hallway.

We make good time to the hanger where we find a pelican prepped and ready. Two marines lay dead on the ramp and a second lays dead in the cockpit. "Can you fly this thing?" I ask Parkson who nods and helps drag the bodies out. "We leave in five," I tell my team.

We scour the hanger for anything we might need. 211 finds a radio, and Kia finds a sort of hacking device which she puts into the pelican's storage compartments. We fill up on biofoam canisters and all of the ammo we could find. Just as we begin loading up, the door opens and two Elites and a whole compliment of Grunts enter. A hunter lumbers in after them, roaring as it sees us. Its plasma cannon raises to fire on us, and a Grunt suffers the rage of the Hunter by being squashed into the floor by its foot.

"Go, go!" I shout to Parkson as they enter. Plasma bullets rain hell on the hull as Parkson retracts the ramp and rises slowly off of the ground. I can see him working the controls as he turns the bird to face the open space. "Hold on to something," he says.

Each of us grab onto the panic bars above our heads and brace ourselves as he brings down the shield door protecting the hanger from the vaccum of space. There is a roaring sound as he activates the rear thrusters to keep the vaccum from slamming us against the wall. All of the noises are cancelled out, however, when the shield deactivates and swallows the hanger.

Soon enough, the thrusters come to life again and shove us out into space, beyond the hull of the ship.

This is the part I hate. Waiting. You are unable to do anything as you put your 100% of trust into the pilot to keep you safe. It's not like I distrust Parkson, it's just that the lack of control is disturbing. And for good reason.

The ship jerks around as plasma fire thuds down the side of the hull, sizzling audibly as Parkson opens fire with the chin gun which vibrates the entire ship.

"Parkson, forget our tails. Get us down to the surface!" I shout as Kia reports a massive target very close to our position.

The chingun cuts off and the thrusters activate, swinging us around...to bring a most unwanted sight into view.

There are circular viewports behind the seats. Its barely enough to see out of, but its enough to see the looming ship which glares at us angrily.

It's massive! It dwarfs the Surragate as if it were a chew toy. Its purple hull and swooping look gives its identification as a Covenant ship, but I've never seen such a ship before.

"We've got contacts! Ten closing in on us!" Kia reports. "Parkson, get this thing going faster!" I tell the Spartan.

Plasma fire begins raining down on the hull as the Banshee's, Phantoms, and another type of vehicle begin firing on us. Banshees begin making bombing runs but most of the bombs miss. But one of them slams into the space between both of the wings, leaving a huge dent. Plasma fire thuds into the Pelican as Parkson desperately tries to get down to the planet.

"Almost there," Kia says as she watches the proximity to the planet. "Entering outer atmosphere."

The planet fills the first view viewports, it surface a temporary welcome sight. "Parkson, aim for those mountains. We'll try to lose them in there," Kia tells the Spartan piloting the ship.

As we begin entering the atmosphere, the Pelican jerks and an impossibly loud explosion can be heard from the rear thruster. "Right thruster is down!" Kia exclaims. Parkson grunts as he attempts to straighten the bird out. "We've lost more then half of them. Only three are following now," Kia reports.

211 grips his seat tightly as the large mountainous area comes into view. Its sharp peaks a very dangerous welcoming.

"There! A valley!" Kia says to Parkson who controls the pelican enough to steer towards the valley. "Harnesses on! We're in for a hard landing," I tell the others. Kia, who was standing behind Parkson, gets back and jumps into a seat and pulls the harness over her chest. Me and 211 do the same.

The floor of the valley comes into striking detail, and the treetops of the forest come into view as we crash down towards them. "Lock your armor!" I exclaim just before we hit.

There is an impossibly loud crash as we slam into the ground. We stay straight, but the pelican nearly comes apart as it takes out a large line of trees and branches. We must run into something, because the pelican comes to a sudden stop and my head slams into the hull, knocking me out cold.


	11. Chapter Ten

**TIME UNKNOWN, January 25th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Hovorta System, Planet Juve.**

I am suddenly aware of a sharp feeling near my ribs. I open my eyes and it takes a moment but my HUD flickers to life. My armor unlocks as soon as I gain consciousness and my arms fall from the air and land at my sides.

I roll to my side and find a sharp piece of metal threatening to stab me. I sit up and grab the metal and find that it was my knife. It had come out of its sheath after I landed and I must have slid onto it. A cut on my back clarifies this.

The pelican had ground to a stop once it hit a very large boulder. The boulder didn't move for the ship so once it hit, the pelican flipped before slamming back into the ground. I was thrown from a hole that was created once the bird crashed and I ended up a few yards from the crash site.

Ignoring the pain, I climb to my knees and find my Assault Rifle still clipped to my back. I replace my blade into its sheath and manage to get to my feet despite the heavy weight that drags down on me. It takes a few minutes, but my suit finally comes back online and the weight lifts and becomes nothing.

The ground that was dug up from the Pelican is soft as I walk over it to get to the bird itself.

There's a gaping hole in the left side which is sitting in the air. The whole thing had flipped onto its side, breaking the right wing completely off. The chin gun lays in pieces a little ways away and pieces from the hull lay scattered around the crash site.

Inside of the cockpit lays parkson, slumped over in the seat with the entire cockpit half collapsed on him. His visor is cracked, revealing dark red hair that is matted with blood from a head wound.

I clear the rubble from his body and then take him out and put him on the ground. After removing his helmet a shallow cut to his upper forehead is revealed. Hardened biofoam had formed on his waist from a broken canister, protecting him from a piece of metal that would have skewered him inside of the cockpit.

I treat the rest of the wounds with biofoam and make sure he's in a safe position before setting off to find the others.

I send out a call over the TEAMCOM, but no one answers. After looking for the good part of 30 minutes I find 211 in a tree. He had pulled himself up into it and treated his wounds before passing out. His shotgun lays next to him, fresh rounds loaded into it but the gun itself has its safety on.

I retrieve the Spartan and bring him back to the crash site, making sure to bring his gun as well.

A few minutes later Kia appears, holding a case which holds a sort of computer. "Thought I heard something," she says and sets down the computer. "What did you find?" I ask her.

"Nothing that we didn't already know. Covenant got to this planet years ago, shortly after Harvest was hit. Glassed all of the cities they could find, there's nothing left here but forests and mountains," She says. "Will we be able to contact the UNSC for a ride out?" I inquire.

She looks a little troubled before nodding. "Yes...but that Supercarrier is still in orbit. It's sending down periodic patrols. It may be a while until they stop looking and leave. I don't know if the UNSC can fight off a thing that big. And we may not be able to tell them it's here," she says. "So we're trapped," I confirm.

She nods but then looks at her computer. "There are a few places here that were raided but not glassed. We could find essential resources inside of them to wait this out," Kia says. I nod and look to Parkson who still hasn't awoken. "We'll need to wait until they can walk. Keep an eye on the radar, make sure they don't find the crash site," I tell her. "Alright," she responds and goes to set up an area for herself and her equipment.

Parkson awakens a while later with a sort of groan, clutching his stomach as he pulls himself into a sitting position. "Welcome back," Kia says to him. "We've crashed. The Covenant are in orbit, and we can't contact the UNSC yet. Once 211 wakes up and recovers, we're going to head out and look for resources."

Parkson nods and takes off his helmet, frowning at the large crack. He sets it down and goes back into the cockpit. He rummages around before finding a short of chip and slides it into a port in the back of his helmet. "What's that?" I ask him as he returns. He simply gives a sort of sly smile before pulling out some rope from his belt and tying his helmet to his waist. I give him a curious look before shaking my head.

Parkson patches himself up and dries the blood. His armor took a heavy hit, but nothing it hasn't taken before.

"We need to find a way off of this planet. Maybe try to contact the UNSC," Kia says, standing behind me. I look over my shoulder and shake my head. "The Covenant will still be looking for us, assuming the captain was able to initiate the Cole Protocol," I say. "He did. I made sure," Kia says. "We may have to take a covie ship. I'm sure there may still be something left on this planet to get us out," I say and look to 211. "As soon as he wakes up, we can go look."

About a half hour later, 211 wakes up with a very bad headache. He doesn't take help but insists we set off as soon as possible. So within ten minutes, we have gathered what we need from the Pelican and have started walking. We decided that staying at the crash site would be a bad idea. After about fifteen minutes of walking, we hear the distant humming sound of a Covenant dropship. We had gotten out just in time.

There is miles and miles of forest. Tall trees, overgrowth, and humid weather. Granted it's hot and i'm beginning to sweat, but being hot is better than being dead. We continue to bear the weather and keep going.

I've come to notice that there is quite a number of wildlife in this forest. Birds, primates, and predators. They watch from a distance, call from above, and veer quickly out of our way. I've never been out like this before. Even the forests we were dropped into during training were never this serene. The only thing that stops us from relaxing is the fact that we're being hunted by the Covenant.

The sun is high in the sky and beating down on the leafs. I can hear a stream in the distance and what sounds like the calls of a bear. The animals on this planet are strangely like the ones that we were taught about in our classes, the ones from earth. Maybe they were exported? But it's good because we mostly know how to deal with the predators we come across.

Two hours later, we spot the first signs of a settlement. Rubble is strewn around the outer edges, but then we reach the inner destruction.

The ground is charred and has a slightly reflective look to it. Buildings are crumbled, the shells of destroyed cars litter the streets and sit inside of blasted houses. It's a nightmare scene. But standing tall above the ruins is a fallout shelter. It's charred and looks rough, but it still stands. It is set into the ground, with only seven feet of steel showing above the ground. The entrance is sealed shut, but Kia has the right equipment to unlock it.

We carefully make our way through the rubble and ignore the sun bleached skeletons that are strewn about the carnage.

Once all four of us reach the shelter, Kia gets to work on the door. It doesn't take her long to get it open. The door unlocks with a hiss and slides smoothly open. The room inside is dark and rusted. The lights had gone out a long time ago and dust particles swirl about in the sunlight. I step inside first, weapon aimed and ready.

The smell is what hits us first. Thick and musty, like something that hasn't had fresh air in a long time. But then comes the smell of death. It's strong and assaults our senses. I fight the urge to gag or turn my head and turn on my helmet's flashlight.

The sunlight seems to falter not far from the entrance as the darkness eats it up. We find old consoles that went dark a while ago. Primal weapons such as bats and boards with nails are laying on the ground. My flashlight sweeps over something and I go back to look at it. "Ugh," I grunt in disgust as I see a decaying body draped over the doors inner controls. Kia comes over and carefully take the body down and examines it. "Estimated death seems to be two months ago. He's in the advanced stages of decay," she says. "Died from substantial blood loss. Someone shot him." She pulls a bullet from his back and turns it over. "He must have been in bad shape. This is a pretty weak bullet. Normally could be pulled out without any real damage." She drops the bullet and I swallow the bile that threatened to rise. The body stunk. Bad. I've never really had to deal with rotting bodies before.

"This leads to the inner area. I'm assuming the gathering courtyard," 211 says as he pushes open a heavy metal door that was slightly ajar. Parkson finds a partial skeleton hanging onto the door. Her hands were stuck to the latch and she was just hanging there. "Died from bullet wounds. Shot to death," Kia says after a quick examination. "I have a bad feeling about this," 211 says. "We can only find out if we go deeper," I say, glancing up at the vents that labels this hallway a decontamination chamber.

We reach the other end and Kia opens the door. We are met with a dimly lit chamber with walkways spanning the upper level. A sort of balcony is suspended over the ground level and a decaying banner is hanging on the wall above the balcony. A sort of small stand sits on the edge of the balcony. The stand is attached to what I can only assume are sound systems. Metal benches are set on the ground floor and a few decaying bodies are sitting in them, or laying.

"Poisoned," Kia says without even examining the bodies. "Slow acting. Took at least an hour for them to succumb. Looks like it was a mercy killing after the life support systems failed. Or before."

On the upper level, we find the doors lead to rooms. And inside the rooms are people. They are all dead. In the first room, a man sits slumped over next to his bed. A pistol of sorts sits next to his hand and he's leaning against the wall. It's not hard to find out what happened since there's a large hole out of the back of his head.

Parkson has to turn his head as we enter the next room. A woman sits on a bed, her head leaning against the wall. Two smaller bodies sit on either side of her.

We quickly leave that room, but I can tell it shook us all up. We don't have to look in any of the other rooms to tell what happened. It was a mass suicide to beat the failure of the life support systems.

We delve deeper into the bunker and find more living quarters. All empty. But inside one of them was the logs from the head of security. It sat on a neatly made bed. The room was clean and looked like it could be lived in.

Kia unlocks the data-pad and hands it to me after looking it over. The first log is a response from the head of the bunker, a man named Alkira, stating that less than half of the citizens arrived alive. Alkira ordered a full compliment of the citizens.

But four entries ahead is where everything began to happen. It was two and a half weeks after the first entry.

 **SUBJECT: Unrest**

 **DATE: September 2542**

 **Officer Salvyr reported of at least nine fights in the last week between the citizens. We are running out of food, Alkira. We only have enough rations to feed everyone for another month. You had better find a way to get that door open. The Covenant are not out there anymore! I don't know what you're picking up. But it's not the enemy. I don't know how much longer we'll last like this.**

The entry was troubling. And it sounded like the door had gotten stuck shut. Or maybe the one named Alkira had sealed it and refused to open it? The next entry was dated a week after the last.

 **SUBJECT: RE: Rations Order**

 **DATE: September 2542**

 **What the hell are you thinking?! We can't just kill them! Stop this idiocy now! We're falling apart at the seams. There have been at least three murders just within this last week. Please, Alkira. Rethink your decision.**

"Sounds like their leader decided to limit the number of people to feed. Not an easy decision. And probably not the right one," Kia says. I look through the last few entries but they're all replies to reports from other security officers. "Nothing else important," I say and toss down the datapad. "I don't like where this is going. I have a feeling I know just what's behind that last door," Kia says. "Only one way to find out," 211 says and backs out of the room.

The hallway is fairly long and lined with doors. The overhead lights flicker, threatening to fail and flood the hallway with blackness. The door at the end of the hall is a large heavy door with multiple bolts and locks. But they're not too secure, and Kia easily breaks in. 211 confirms it as their armory. Racks of weapons and ammo containers fill the room. There's a blacked window at the far end that looks like the shooting range. I open it and instantly regret it.

The smell hits me like a brick wall. I gag and just barely manage to remove my helmet before I violently vomit. I double over, resting my hands on my knees, breathing heavily which makes it worse. "Holy hell!" Kia exclaims in surprise, jerking back as if she had just been hit. "Oh that's disgusting," 211 groans as his flashlight spots the source of the smell. Parkson gives a sound of disgust as he sees it as well. I replace my helmet and let the smell filters adjust. I look up and spot the giant pile of bodies. Some are skeletons, others are just barely starting to decay. I spot what must have been the chief of security laying with the bodies. "That's not right," Kia says. "I think I've seen enough," 211 says and backs out of the room. We follow him and seal the door again. "I think I know damn well what happened in here," Kia says as we leave the armory. "I'm starting to assume," I say, trying to shake the sight of all of those bodies. Children, women...

We backtrack and soon find the leaders room. Its sealed very tight and it takes a good round of explosives from Parkson to crack. Once inside, there's a sort of round desk with a chair in the middle. Sitting in the chair is what looks like the body of Alkira. The man's hair is still intact, but once Kia goes to examine the body, the head falls back. His throat had been slit almost all of the way through. Kia grunts in annoyance as she looks around the room. "Here," She says, handing me a datapad.

I open the entries and find the real reason for all of this. The first entry is labeled right before the cheif of security's. It calls for a full compliment of civilians they had rescued. The second entry tells a man named Rozen Rodrigues to seal the doors and keep them shut. The third entry, dated a week after the last, tells of Rozen reporting that the Covenant were trying to break in. Alkira called for a complete lockdown, but Rozen refused. So Alkira did it himself and threatened punishment if Rozen disobeyed again.

Once I open one of the entries, I know it means trouble.

 **SUBJECT: Rations Order**

 **DATE: September 2542**

 **I am ordering all security personnel to gather these specified citizens [ATTACHMENT ENCLOSED] to be taken to the armory's shooting range and dispose of them. They will not be warned. If anyone tells the citizens of their fate, they will join the citizens. This order is to be carried out ASAP. Disobey me, and you will die.**

"This guy lacked in kindness. That's for sure," Kia says after reading the entry. The next entry seems panicked, troubled. It's addressed to the men who I can only assume are the mechanics of the bunker.

 **SUBJECT: RE: Life support systems failing**

 **DATE: December 2542**

 **You had better keep the life support running or else you're going to be the next ones to be sacrificed! We only need one to keep the systems up. The others are easily disposed of. Use the beds in the empty rooms if you need to. Just keep it running!**

The very last entry didn't make sense. It spoke of names I didn't recognize. There wasn't a subject, and the date had been erased. There was an apology in there somewhere, but it was lost in the non-sense. "At least he got what he had coming to him," Kia says, resting a hand on her hip. "The wound is too deep. This wasn't a suicide," 211 notes, looking at the body. "Too fresh. he survived a good while after the systems failed."

After 211 says that, I hear something. It was the cocking of a gun. I instantly bring my AR up. My team responds by doing the same.

All four of our lights shine into the hallway, lighting up a single figure. The man is dressed in baggy clothing that looks filthy. The man himself looks just as bad. Dark bags sit under his eyes and he has a slightly crazed look, like he's been living with only himself for a long while. He doesn't have any hair but a scraggly beard hangs onto his face.

Even though this man looks like he couldn't hurt anyone in this state, we still keep our weapons trained on him. Mostly because of the Magnum he has aimed at us.

"Well aren't you a sight," Kia says. "Shut up!" The man snaps. "You don't know what I did. He asked for it!" The man's hand goes up to point at the dead body.

"What do you mean he asked for it?" I ask, trying to keep him calm. "He said 'Manda, just kill me. I've had it.' So I did!" the man says in a high crazed voice. Just then, a little girl timidly steps out from behind the doorway and grabs the man's leg in fear. "Sarah! I told you to wait outside!" The man snaps. "But there were baddies out there," the girl says. The man curses and darts away, picking up the girl as he does so.

We chase him, but he had disappeared. "The Covenant. They followed us in," Kia says, checking her Tac-pad. "Be prepared for a fight. We'll try to sneak out, but this bunker isn't exactly big," I say and turn off my helmet's light. My team follows my lead and we're cloaked in absolute blackness.

Soon enough, the sound of talons clanking on the metal ground sounds through the hallway. The rapid breathing of the Grunts follows the Jackals. The glow of the Jackal's shields is easily spotted. The tailing Elite barks out orders, his voice ringing through the empty base. It's obvious that they're not going for stealth.

We've left the leader's room and are most of the way out, but Parkson makes us stop right before the small party came through. Parkson pauses before gesturing forwards.

I lead them through until another disturbance makes me stop. We find a small nook in the wall to take shelter in. A couple of Jackals suddenly appear, weapons sweeping the hallway as they walk forwards. They don't notice us and soon we're out of the hallway and nearing the exit point.

There are very few reinforcements guarding the door, so we leave without troubles. Or so we thought.

We had been very careful to not make any noise, or be detected in any way. But without warning, Parkson goes down.

He is shoved backwards and lands hard on his back. His hands fly up and grab something invisible. We are about to help when a glowing energy sword activates right next to his head from the arm he was grabbing. The cloaked Elite roars in fury as Parkson gets his legs up and kicks his attacker off. We get him behind us and face the Elite. We can see him weighing the odds, but he finally takes off back into the bunker.

"Back into the forest! Double time!" I tell my team. We make it into the tree line just as the shouts of Elites and Jackals fill the air.

"To recount on what we learned...we found a fallout bunker with dead inhabitants. The leader killed everyone because of both greed and ration shortages, and then the leader was killed by a crazed outsider?" Kia says as we walk through the forest. I nod in confirmation. "Sums it up," I answer. Kia shakes her head and readjusts her grip on her rifle. "We have a lot to learn..."

It takes a few hours, but we finally contact the UNSC. It's a hard line to keep, but we keep it up long enough to call for evac. We are told that there are quite a number of Covenant ships in orbit and they wouldn't be able to get a pelican down for at least two days, so we would have to hold out until then.

And it isn't until seven hours into our second day on the planet that we realize that we're being hunted.

We had accidentally doubled back on ourselves and Parkson, our tracker, points out a footprint. It's large and looks alien. "Sangheili," Kia hisses. We all instantly tense up and I tell them to keep calm and pretend like we never saw the tracks.

We proceed to a town that Parkson had scouted out earlier and find it completely empty. As the others, the ground is scarred and slightly reflective, showing signs of having been glassed. The buildings are crumbling and some are completely destroyed. It's obvious to track the glassing beam's track. It had followed the largest road but cut across and destroyed a number of large buildings, reducing them to a mound of rubble.

We proceed to set up in a partially destroyed building for a rest. At this point, we are all hungry. But we don't have any food, and any food in this town was probably already rotten or already ransacked. So we stick to water to quench our thirst and hunger and keep on alert for the ones tailing us.

It takes a few hours for the Elites to make their move, but when they do we're ready for them.

It's dusk and the light of the day is fading quickly. The city is silent with the exception of the wildlife that slowly begin to settle down. If we didn't know that we were being hunted, it would have been relaxing.

During the few hours that we had waited, we had moved to three different buildings. In one, we found canned food that had been preserved and rationed it out. It was refreshing, even though it was very stale.

As we are switching out watches, a single shot rings out and 211 goes down with a cry. He had been sitting just outside of the doorway, watching for enemies. He hadn't seen what I did just before he was shot. I had almost called it out, but it was too late.

I dive back into the building, gritting my teeth as a second shot nearly cuts a hole in my arm. _Beam rifles..._

211 had pulled himself behind cover but his vitals were fluctuating dangerously, signaling he was badly wounded. There was more than one sniper, 211 was out in the open, and Kia and Parkson had gotten pinned on the top floor. I was on my own.

"Are you conscious?" I ask 211 over a COM link. "For now...I'm losing blood. I spotted at least two snipers before I went down," he responds. He sounds close to fainting, a bad sign.

None of us had ever been shot by a Beam Rifle before. And now I'm beginning to see what it does. In some way, I'm glad I wasn't me who got shot first. But the fact that my teammate is down and injured overweighs my needs. I'll have to risk getting shot to get 211 into cover.

"How are things up there, Kia?" I ask the female Spartan. It takes a few minutes for her to answer, but when she does it's right after a sniper shot rings out. "Shit..." she curses over the COM. "Not good, sir. I've spotted at least five snipers. They send a squad after us."

"Try and cover me. I'm going for 211," I tell her and take a few breaths before launching myself out of the door.

I instantly take a sniper round to the leg, but pull myself behind a concrete barrier before the sniper can try again.

The pain is horrible. It burns like crazy and my leg is throbbing. But I need to ignore it if I'm going to get 211 out alive.

A sniper round from Kia rings out and I hear a distant alien cry. "Got one," Kia calls over the COM. "Move forward quickly before they refocus."

I take her advice and rise from cover. I feel exposed, standing above my only safety. But Kia had me covered and I safely make it to the inside of a building.

To my surprise, I find 211 leaning against the wall on the inside. He's holding his stomach. To my fear, he isn't bleeding, which means he has suffered plasma burns. "Nice to see you...sir," 211 says. The pain in his voice is hard to bear but I push down my emotions and crouch next to him with my only biofoam canister. "You'll be alright, Spartan," I tell him, doubting myself. 211 chuckles, which turns into a grunt of pain. "Tell that to my stomach," he says.

I spray the biofoam onto his wound and he inhales sharply before letting out a breath.

"Sir, I just got a call. Evac will be arriving within fourteen minutes. They found a break in the line and have sent down a pelican. I have informed them of the snipers and they have a team of sharpshooters waiting to help," kia tells us. My heart leaps with hope and I have to take a moment to refocus. "Alright. Tell us when they're here," I tell her.

A sniper round whizzes over my head and slams into the far wall. I curse and duck lower to avoid being shot.

It's a tense few minutes, occasional sniper fire from both my team and the covies up on the roofs. But the silence is broken when two Covies appear out of nowhere.

It was a last second decision, more instinct than anything. But I have a sudden urge to check on the up stairs room. And as I am climbing the stairs, I hear the floor creak. It might have just been a coincidence, the old building settling. But it makes me turn around just in time to see the shimmering form of a cloaked elite just behind me. My hand flies out and catches its cloaked arm just before it can hit me. The Elite roars in anger and swings his activated energy sword for me. I barely manage to dodge the blade and shove the enemy hard. he stumbles and falls down the stairs, thudding hard as he falls all of the way down. I grab my own energy sword and jump down the stairs after him.

Once I reach the bottom, I find another Elite holding 211 by his throat and saying something to him. 211 is grabbing the arms of the Elite in desperation, too weak to fight back. A second Elite appears behind me and I manage to get the two in front of me. They're all Spec Op soldiers, but only one has an energy sword. This is a fortunate break.

The one with the energy sword says something to me and then to his companion who replies and takes out what I can only assume is a Plasma Pistol.

The Elite with the Energy Sword stops his approach and points at my own Energy Sword and says something again. But when I don't respond he make a swiping gesture and then gestures to his partner who lowers his weapon.

I know I haven't learned much about culture, but at this point, I had realized the leader was challenging me to a fight to the death with Energy Swords.

I look at my sword and then to the Elite. I mimic the swiping gesture at the Elite gives a roar and backs up, getting into a fighters stance. I do the same and wait for him to make a move. The other two Elites are watching in anticipation. The one holding 211 had dropped him to the ground and was keeping him pinned with a boot to his back. I wanted so badly to help him, but ignoring these two in front of me would be my downfall.

We circle each other for what seems like forever, but finally the Elite strikes first. It was a test blow, a quick jab. But it nearly cuts into my arm. I twist aside just in time to avoid being cut. And as I do so, I bring my own energy sword around and watch in frustration as the Elite twists away from it. The Elite laughs suddenly goes for my head. I duck the blow and push off of my heel and roll under his guard. I come up quickly and land a lucky blow to his leg. The Elite cries out in pain as the sword slices across his upper leg. The Sangheili then hisses and I know he's done playing around.

He delivers four quick, sharp blows. I manage to dodge them, but the fourth catches me off guard and he slices my ribs. I cry out in pain as the sword cuts into me, leaving a sort of burning pain. It doesn't cripple me, but I almost fall victim to another hit. Pushing through the pain, I lunge forwards and manage to land another lucky blow to the Elite's arm. I completely cut off the shoulder piece and cut into the arm, disabling it. Another hiss of pain follows, but this time its followed up by a dirty kick to my stomach. The hit was hard and I slam into the ground, the air knocked out of me. Before I can recover, the Elite pins me with a foot to my neck. The ugly beast towers over me, his energy sword inches from my head. His mandibles split and he roars at me in victory. But he hadn't realized that I still had my energy sword.

Before the Elite can notice, the sword slices into his leg. The Spec Ops roars in agony and stumbles back, falling to one knee. I quickly get up and throw my energy sword into his neck, killing their leader.

The partner roars in rage and goes for me. But I retrieve the blade and quickly kill him with it by taking advantage of his blind rage. Unfortunately, the third Elite wasn't as stupid. He comes up from behind me, using his cloaking to keep hidden. He shoves me hard and I land on my stomach, the wind once again knocked out of me. A boot lands on my back and I can feel the muzzle of a gun being pressed to my back. It begins to heat up...but a single ear splitting crack sounds off and the Elite topples to the ground.

I am expecting to see Kia, but when I look up I see an ODST. He's fairly tall and has a sniper Rifle in his hands. "I see you needed help," The soldier says with a fairly deep voice that could easily fit a villian. I look to 211 who was still on his stomach. "He needs it more," I say, pulling myself up onto my arms. A second ODST appears, poking his head into the room. "Good. You found them. We got the other two, they're in the bird now," The second ODST says. I see a name on the first ODST's armor, _Austin Rex_. "Austin," I say to the soldier. "Make sure he gets treatment first."

The ODST nods and calls in for the medics. "Are the Snipers dealt with?" I ask the second ODST who crouches down to help 211. "Yeah. Little bitches were hard to deal with. But your sniper is a good shot. I'd hate to be in her crosshairs," the second ODST says with a chuckle.

Now that the adrenaline has drained, I feel the true pain of my wounds. The shot to my leg is burning like hell, and stinging as well. I can feel blood beginning to form on the wound, a good sign that I hadn't suffered plasma burns. My ribs where hurting like hell, but they were bleeding too. No plasma burns. But 211 wasn't as lucky.

I managed to sit up and watch as they take out 211 on a stretcher, sighing in relief that he would be taken care of.

Austin helps me to my feet and I make it outside where Kia was relaying the mission to what looked like a sort of official.

"Sir, this is admiral Reefs. He is in charge of the UNSC Torrent," kia says. I instantly snap a salute, which spikes the pain in my ribs and makes me grunt.

"At ease, Spartan. You all have suffered a lot today. Spartan, your EOD has taken a heavy hit and has to be transferred to a medical facility. Your second Spartan will have to be taken care of as well, and you should do the same," The admiral says.

My heart stops when I hear the news about Parkson. "He what?!" I demand, temporarly forgetting I was talking to an admiral. "Sniper got him in the chest. I wasn't able to protect him well enough," Kia explains. "Damn it..." I growl. "Where are we being shipped to, sir?"

"Jarfell. It's near Reach and it has plenty of military help. You'll be riding on my ship until we get there. Someone will be contacting you about reassignment after the loss of the Surragate. But it will be a while. Expect at least a week of recovery time, Spartan," The admiral says. I snap a weak salute. "Yes sir," I reply to the best of my ability.

The admiral leaves VIA a second pelican and we board the other and leave as soon as we are seated.

Three pelicans had arrived, a medical one, the admiral's, the ours. 211 and Parkson were taking away in the medical one and we leave with the third.

As we left the glassed planet, there was this nagging feeling like I should remember it somehow. I don't know why...but that first city felt familiar. Like somehow I've been there before. And one of the decaying bodies also seemed familiar. It hurt me to see it. But I don't know why...

Never-the-less. We're safe now. Out of Covenant space and on our way to somewhere where we can finally relax. So why do I still feel tense?


	12. Chapter Eleven

**0910 FEBRUARY 2nd, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ ECHO BASE, PLANET REACH**

Recovery for me and Kia went swiftly. But Parkson and 211 were down for almost two weeks. In that time, we were excused from our duties on a month long leave. It was labeled as R&R, since the UNSC wanted us back right away. Fortunately, our new mission commander took pity on us.

It's been strange to be around such normal soldiers. They seem unprofessional, but I'm sure it only seems that way because of how we were trained. We don't fit in with the others, not even the other Spartans. We were only in the original Spartan program for a year before being sent to our separate training. I learned from another Spartan II that this was not the norm, and I learned how the program truly was. He had said that we were part of an ONI program of sorts. It was believable. But he had also said that we were an unruly bunch. Too formal. His companion had waved it off as us being "newbies", but the Spartan wasn't convinced.

We were assigned a room for all four of us to stay in. 211 and Parkson had been released from the hospital after the first week, but they were still on a few drugs that made them dizzy and weak. 211 tried to convince me that he was fine, but it was obvious in the way he walked and in the way that he spoke that he wasn't. He would need another week to be battle ready again.

It was very interesting to see how the others interacted with each other. How loose they were, as well as their lingo. I was beginning to get a feel as to how real soldiers act.

We found the ODST's who had rescued us. The one that had saved me is named Austin Rex. He's been in service for a few years and was one of the soldiers fighting on Harvest. His brother, Charles Rex, is an EOD who seems to be both intelligent and reckless. Though by the looks of it I wouldn't want to be in his crosshairs.

We are kept busy by constant intelligence updates from our mission commander. We learn more and more about the Covenant, our enemies, during our down time. We should have learned all of this during our training, but for some reason we were never taught hardly anything about them.

I realize that I underestimated the Elites. They're faster and smarter than I first thought. I would have to be careful around them. But the Grunts are weaker, slowly, and stupider than I thought. They would be easy to eliminate without cause for too much worry. Jackals are devious and quick. They are the Snipers of the Covenant Empire. Hunters are big brutes with thick shields. They don't care for anyone but their partners. Drones, Engineers, Brutes, we learn about them all.

 **0923, Febuary 16th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Above planet Thrug**

At last, the two weeks are up and we are reassigned to the UNSC Faithful. It's a combat ship that saw the fall of Harvest. There were plenty of Marines aboard, and a single team of ODST's.

We were briefed and given our new objectives. We would be defending an outer colony on the verge of being overtaken by the covenant. While the UNSC fought off the Covenant in space, we would be on the ground waging war throughout the surface.

We weren't fighting the frontlines, however. We would be running assassinations and sabotage as well as infiltration. We would be working alone, as I had expected. We would be provided a single Falcon for our transport needs. The ammo provided would be picked up from the Faithful, but would be on our own if we run out. There would be complete radio silence between us and the Faithul once we reach the planet, no evac, no backup, nothing.

This is our first official mission where we've had time to catch our breath. I'll admit, I am scared. But not enough to affect my team. And not enough to be distracted.

We drop down to the planet which is buzzing with activity. We aren't near the front lines, so there isn't much air or ground activity as we fly near the mountains and forests. I'm the pilot and Parkson, Kia, and 211 are in the back. The cockpit is too small for a copilot.

Our first objective is an infiltration on a Covenant refueling outpost. It's big and important, plus it has heavy traffic in both air and land.

I'm going to stay in the air with the Falcon and provide aerial support as Kia and Parkson make their way through the base to the fuel storage. Parkson will plant explosives, and the two will escape before blowing the charges. It seems easy, and it just might be. But Hokai warned us about being cocky, so I have to expect complications.

The base is open, and most of the supplies are only protected by a sort of canopy. There are two large warehouses and a number of smaller ones peppering the outpost. The entire base is protected by a short wall with sentries posted around the perimeter. Jackals are posted at random intervals, some on top of warehouses, others keeping watch from their hovering snipers nests. There are two Hunters patrolling the main road. From our vantage point, I can see a few Elites and a good number of Grunts.

We come to a stop just a few hundred feet away from the protective wall and drop off the two infiltrators. As they make their way into the base, we rise above and begin raining hellfire to distract the enemies.

As soon as we open fire, we are hammered with AA guns. They came out of nowhere, having been concealed somewhere within the base, and begin firing. I duck and dive to avoid being shredded. 211 quickly spots and opens fire on the guns. But after taking out the first, the Spartan is forced to switch seats to avoid being killed.

"What's your progress?" I ask the two on the ground. "Nearly there. The fueling tanks are in sight. Just-" Kia's report is broken up by an explosion and the sound of flying debris. "a bit of reinforcements. Standby."

I whip the Falcon around and curse quietly as a Fuel Rod round discharges and attempts to hit us. "Copy that," I reply and climb higher into the air.

Snipers! 211, can you take them down?" I ask my gunner as a Needle shatters my right window, the glass clinking off of my armor. There's a long burst of fire from the Spartan and he calls it dead.

"We've planted the charges. Making our way to extraction now. As long as they don't find and defuse it, this base is as good as dead," Kia says through the TEAMCOM.

I manage to take out the AA guns, but the ground fire is just as heavy. The entire base is packed with attackers. Soon enough, the Falcon is venting smoke and alarms are screaming at me.

"I have to pull out. Meet up at the extraction point," I tell Parkson and Kia as I feel the Falcon giving up.

After rising high into the air, I pull the bird around and shoot forwards, keeping the speed low enough to avoid activating the thrusters.

Once at the extraction point, we set down and open the hatch and jump out. 211 follows me and he radios the others who report that they had been followed by a large set of reinforcements.

We'll have to lose them before we get back to you. These Hunters are making our lives miserable," kia shouts over the deafening sounds of gunfire. "Keep in touch. 211 will find you if you need help," I say, looking to 211 who nods. "Roger-" Kia starts, but a nearby whine and explosion stops her. There's a grunt over the COM and a scrape. "-that."

While we are waiting, we check our weapons and reload them. 211 cleans off his helmet and I do the same. "Sir, what are those Spartans that we have been seeing around the base?" 211 asks me. I have to think about that for a moment. I know they aren't Spartan II's. They can only be III's. I've heard they're being rolled out faster than the II's. Shorter training and all that. While I don't agree with the method, I see their reasoning. More soldiers means more battles won. But I can't help but think they look a little too ill-prepared. "Spartan-III's, 211. They're the newest generation," I answer. 211 is quiet a moment before nodding. "I understand, sir."

About thirty minutes later, Kia and Parkson appear through the trees. They look beaten and worn, but alive. "Any complications?" I ask them. "No. Parkson managed to take down the Hunters, and the others dispersed after that," Kia says. "What did he use?" I ask, looking at Parkson who shows me an anti-tank bomb. "Well that answers that," I say with a smile.

I consult our mission route and find that the next thing we are to do is an assassination mission. One of the high ranking Sangheili are arriving in a few hours at one of the inner outposts to inspect a battle-ready Scarab. The UNSC wants him dead. So we have been put to the task. Unfortunately, we would have to hoof it for the last few miles in order to avoid detection. We would set up a mile from the outpost and Kia would be the assassin while we watch her back.

Lets get into the air and blow this place so we can move on," I tell the others. They then load into the Pelican and we are soon in the air.

Once we are far enough away, Parkson detonates the bomb. It takes a few seconds for the signal to reach the explosive, but once it does, the reward is exciting.

The base explodes into one huge fireball. The shock wave slams into the falcon and rocks it violently. The flames reach high into the air like some angry entity, burning everything it touches. We can smell the burning plasma even from miles out, and only imagine the scream of dying Covenant soldiers.

After watching the flaming wreck for a few minutes more, we turn away and head for our next objective. The assassination of a high ranking Elite.

It takes us about an hour to reach the drop-off point. I land the falcon in a rocky clearing and use the boulders as camouflage. After a quick weapons-check, we head into the forest that stretches on for a few miles before running into a mountain.

Inside of the forest, we find a stream and follow it up. It's interesting. We're all alone in a forest on an alien planet about to assassinate an enemy. We've trained for this, sure. But now it's really happening. This is our first real long-term mission since we were augmented a few months ago. We're not even a year out of training and we've been through a lot. If this is what it's like as newbies, I can only imagine what we'll see as veterans, assuming we live that long.

We see plenty of alien creatures along the way, mainly prey-types. Small birds with four wings, some with two tails, others with several heads. We had become accustomed to the wildlife on Reach. But other species from different planets are...strange. But we can't pay too much attention to them. We have to keep a constant eye on our radar and keep our ears strained for the sound of enemies. If it was possible, I would eventually like to visit one of these planets outside of battle. It is truly peaceful out here.

We eventually reach the base of the mountain we'll be setting up on. It gets steep fast, but we locate an old rock staircase that the locals must have used. It reaches far up into the mountain, curling around for what seems like forever. While my team doesn't complain audibly about it, I know they don't like it.

The staircase is indeed a challenge. And by the time we reach our destination, our bodies are burning for rest.

The ruins of an old building greet us and provide the perfect view through the valley below. The floor above is still intact, shielding us from the sun and giving us the perfect camouflage in the shadows. The building once sat supported off of the edge of the mountain. But once age ate away the supports, the front of the house fell and left only half of it standing. We set up at the opening and scope out the area.

We take this time for a rest. With the exception of Kia, we all remove our helmets and drink some water. The air is cool and fresh. While the altitude is a little high, the view is amazing.

I watch Kia as she sets up her rifle. She sets up the stand, adjusts the sights, and is constantly repositioning. I would hate to be a Sniper. The precision that long-shots take looks tedious. But I bet the kills are very rewarding after all of the work.

211 is posted on guard duty and he leans against the wall, holding his shotgun pointed at the ground as he watches for any signs of attack. Parkson is assisting Kia and I'm looking over battle reports from the planet-wide military feed. The front lines are moving further and further south, pushing us deeper into enemy territory. I read over a successful raid on a Covenant supply outpost lead by two teams of Spartan III's. A firefight that ended in the loss of an entire marine regiment. Field reports of different ODST teams, one of whom was fairly close to our current position. The battle on the surface was raging, but it didn't look good for us. Evacuation orders were already being issued for cities planet-wide. Civilian transports were fleeing the planet in large quantities. The situation in orbit seemed even worse. While they were holding the Covenant off, reinforcements were coming and the UNSC couldn't get anyone fast enough. Within the next forty-eight hours, the UNSC would have to pull out. I wouldn't want to, I resent it. But it would have to be done to save the lives of my team. But that was forty-eight hours away. For now, we will focus on the task at hand.

Kia calls out that she is done and has set up the shot. She reports that the Zealot's phantom hadn't landed yet, but the welcoming was already set up. She reported of "fancy dressed hinge-heads" and clean lines, which usually meant an official was nearby.

After fifteen minutes of waiting, Kia tells us the Phantom is arriving. I watch her as she sets up the shot and tracks the Elite. Her focus is razor-sharp. I don't think i could break her focus if I wanted to.

A few moments pass, and then Kia fires. The Sniper rifle cracks and the bullet travels quickly. There's a silent moment before she reports the kill as successful. She pulls back from her rifle and sits up, letting out a held breath. "Good job, Spartan," I tell her. She just nods and picks up her rifle and begins to set everything back the way it was.

While we are waiting for her, I hear a strange sound. It was a rustle nearby, like the scuff of a boot. I look to 211, but he hadn't moved. My gaze sweeps the room but I find nothing. Guess It wasn't anything.

But before I can even think of the possibility of an ambush, 211 suddenly springs into action. I catch him out of the corner of my eye bringing up his shotgun in a blocking maneuver. I am surprised to find the glowing shape of an energy sword hovering just inches from his helmet.

An Elite decloaks and roars at him. 211 shoves it back with his shoulder and fires his shotgun. He hits thin air because the Elite had dodged to the side.

I open fire with my Assault Rifle and find that my bullets make its shields flare. But I soon find out that the Elite was only a distraction when a huge arm wraps around my throat and restrains me.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**1753, Febuary 16th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Planet Thrug, one mile from Covenant camp**

My teammates have no time to react as the Elite grabs me and pulls me behind two other massive Elites. They had all been cloaked and had snuck up on us. I'm completely helpless. Unable to reach my weapon and unable to fight back. I can only hope that my team comes up with something before i'm dragged off and killed.

The Elite on the left barks something at the Spartans who promptly ignore him. But once they don't respond, the one holding me speaks broken English. "Drop weapons!" he snaps in a strange voice. After their initial shock, my team doesn't comply. "Make me, you dumb shit," 211 snarls. The Elite then reminds them of the situation by tightening his grip on my throat, making me choke for air. I give them a pleading look, because I know that one of them has something in mind. Namely Parkson.

Parkson is first to lay down his weapons. Kia and 211 follow reluctantly after. "You had better have something planned," 211 growls. Parkson's stance draws my eye to a small red beam lancing across the ground. It's a tripmine. If the Elite crosses it, the planted explosives are going to blow and kill them. And possibly us. Parkson's idea is crazy, but it just might work.

The two Elites begin to advance forward, and one trips the trigger. It's an instant reaction. There's a single explosive and then a delay, then the chain of explosives set around the room goes off and drowns the room in white noise.

I am thrown back against the farthest wall and the Elite holding me lands on top of me. It's a mess of dust and blank noise for what seems like forever. Then I hear a growing rumble. All of a sudden, the ground underneath me gives and I find myself sliding helplessly down the mountainside in the resulting landslide.

While the mountainside was mostly clear, I found myself bumping off of dislodged rocks and rubble from the nearby houses that had come with the first. I see no sign of my team and no sign of any Elites coming down with me. But right now, i'm only worried about surviving this.

The lower I get, the more frequent the trees get. And soon enough I find myself bumping off of tree trunks. But all of a sudden the ground beneath me disappears and I find myself soaring off of the edge of a cliff. I had tried to catch myself, but my hand only slipped off of the rocky surface and sent me flying.

Time seems to stand still for a split second before I'm sent crashing back down. Freefall only lasts thirty seconds, but it's enough to make me realize the gravity of my situation.

I angle myself down to face the dirt and brace for impact as the ground comes rushing back. I hit hard and tumble out of control down the rest of the hill. At one point, I hit my head on something hard and I'm knocked senseless. I see dark spots as unconsciousness creeps up, threatening to pull me under.

At one point I come to a stop in a shallow creek, laying face-up in the water. My head is pounding and I hurt all over. But I'm alive. I feel faint and woozy and I know i'm not getting up for a long time. As the world spins, I am aware that i keep drifting in and out of consciousness. For how long I stay like this, I'm not entirely sure.

A while later I am able to pull myself into a sitting position and crawl out of the stream. I check myself for injuries and don't find any obvious open wounds. My helmet had safely survived the fall and my armor only recieved a few scratches. No broken bones, no problem.

About ten minutes later I am on my feet and attempting to find the rest of my team. 211 answered almost immediately but Kia and Parkson didn't. 211 informed me that he hadn't fallen with the rest of us because he had managed to get out of the door and halfway down the stairs before he was taken down with the slide. He says he saw where Kia and Parkson went but hadn't seen where I fell. I give him my coordinates and tell him that neither Kia nor Parkson had answered my call. I tell him that I'll meet him at the base of the nearby mountain and we'll look for our two missing teammates together.

My plans are quickly shattered once I am found by a squad of Covenant. They come up on me loudly while I was distracted and begin firing, not bothering to ask questions. The first volley of bullets brings my shields down and singes my back, but I am able to dodge to the side to avoid more shots. 211 evidently hears the fire and attempt to contact me, but I don't answer in fear of being killed by the distraction.

Turning on my heel, I hastily sprint away and put a good distance between me and the Covenant I had just run into. Once they're far behind me, I contact 211. "Do not come after me. I have Covenant soldiers behind me. I think they came to investigate the blast. I'll find my own way to safety. Just worry about Kia and Parkson now," I tell the Spartan. He tries to protest, but I give him an order and he is forced to obey.

To keep ahead of the patrol, I begin to make my way uphill. I am practically sprinting and my lungs are screaming for rest. But I ignore the exhaustion creeping up on me and push through.

I run for two miles before I find that the trees are thinning out. And before long, I reach a rocky clearing. Boulders are strewn about the area and patches of grass hang on to cracks in the stony ground. This would be the perfect place for an ambush, but I don't find any hint of it. And I don't think that the patrol I ran into could have set up one this fast. So without thinking too much more about it, I enter the clearing and begin searching for a rendevouz point.

I'm only fourteen minutes into my search before I get a call from 211. My COM crackles to life and before long the sounds of gunfire fill my helmet. "The Covenant found us. We're falling back off of the mountain and trying to get to a safe point. We spotted a group beforehand headed towards your location. I don't know if they have found you yet. Be ready for a fight!" 211 says. I can hear his DMR going off rapidly while he speaks, and soon the sound of an exploding frag grenade follows. "I'm headed back for your location. I'm two miles out. I'll be there soon," I tell them. But before I can move, Kia comes on sounding angry. "Don't worry about us. Just worry about protecting your own damn hide!" Her tone surprises me, and I am about to reprimand her when a sharp sensation pierces into my shoulder. The shot hadn't dropped my shields, but it did graze my biolayer.

Hissing out a curse, I quickly pull behind a boulder and try to spot the attacker. I find the glare off of the sniper's helmet sitting on top of a rock, perched like the Jackal it is. I'm about to return fire with my pistol when a second needle from another attacker shatters against the rock just inches from my head. The orders from a nearby Elite echo off of the stone and Grunt chatters quickly follow.

I quickly find myself surrounded, pinned inside of my makeshift cover. Three large rocks surround me. They tower above all others and provide excellent cover. But I have no windows to shoot through, and only my radar as proof that they're nearby.

211 soon comes back after I had cut off, sounding worried. "Jackson are you there?" he asks. The firefight sounds like it was dying down where they were, a good sign. I decide to mute my outer speakers to talk to him. "They're surrounding me. I've got at least two snipers, an Elite, and a group of Grunts. No doubt more that I can't see," I tell him. 211 audibly curses and I can practically hear him thinking it through. "We'll be there soon. Just...hold on!"

I can hear the sound of boots just outside of my cover and I tense up. I then take a grenade off of my belt and take the clip off. It cooks for a few seconds before being rolled out of my cover. The Elite outside gives an angry cry and I can hear the shields breaking. The nearby Grunts start an uproar of cries and squeals as the Elite begins raging in their language. "You will suffer an execution for the assassination of our General!" The Elite snaps, speaking near-to-perfect English. "All heretics will be wiped from this existence! All hail the prophets!" the second shouts, sounding more alien than the first. His sentence is followed by a large chorus of shouts and cheers from the rest of the soldiers, giving me a good idea of who is around me.

"And why do you think you'll kill me?" I ask them, trying to buy myself some time until my team can reach me. There is a long period of silence where the Covenant fall silent. I fear that they were planning a stealth attack, but the first Elite suddenly comes back with a vigorous voice filled with pride. "Because you are only a heretic. A filthy stain that stands in the way of the Great Journey. All stains must be cleansed before we can take the path to the Great Journey."

I have no clue what the "great journey" is. I haven't actually heard Elites speak English before. So this was both surprising and scary to me.

"And why do you think we are stains?" I ask, glancing at my team's tags and watching them get closer by the second.

"You defile the Gods temples! You insert yourself and ruin the holy sites that have been untouched for centuries. You are unbelievers, you must be punished!" The Elite spits. I can hear him pacing just outside of the rock, his footsteps thumping hard against the stone. "And I will be the one to punish you!"

With this, the Elite suddenly charges inside. But I was expecting this. The Elite finds an Energy Sword embedded into his stomach before he can even set his eyes on me. With his torso severed, his legs fall helplessly. The Elite can only scream for a few seconds before I sever his head.

This causes an uproar. Apparently the second Elite recognizes the sound of an Energy Sword and tells the others to back off. This will definitely buy me time.

But before long, I feel the newcomers before I see them. The ground shakes furiously as their footsteps land. Two Hunters. Their cries reverberate through the rocks and make the Grunts whimper in fear. This is just perfect.

I am thinking of a hundred different ways to escape this, but come up with none. That is until I spot the camofluage attachment hanging on to the back of the dead Elite. The Energy Sword had just barely missed the attachment. With great force, I am able to pry off the Camofluage. It's large, large enough to dwarf my hand. It's alien and strange. As I am turning it around and desperately wondering how to activate it, my thumb hits something.

The responce is instant. I am cloaked in invisibility and I can't even see my own hand. But as soon as I drop the device, the insibility stops. I can work with this.

With energy sword in hand, I perch next to the closest entrance and wait for the Hunters to enter.

The first sticks its body inside shield-first. Then the second follows quickly behind. They massive forms pass just inches from me. But neither of them see their attacker coming as I bolt from cover with my camofluage in hand.

The energy sword finds its target and it rams into the exposed back of the Hunter. Without wasting time, I turn the handle and rip the blade out. I jump back and am instantly invisible again. The first hunter had reacted swiftly and whipped around to bring its shield down, cracking the stone as it hit. But I had side-stepped the attack and was currently ramming my blade into its back. As soon as I take the blade out, I go invisible again. With both Hunters dead, this could go just a little bit easier.

A jackal had its shield up in fear of being shot, but his back was completely exposed. He soon found his neck being snapped and dying without ever having seen his assassin. The three other Jackals that had been in front of him suddenly turn around, only to find nothing but the dead body of their friend. Their squawks of surprise alert the remaining Elite who instantly goes to check it out. He is followed by a second Elite dressed in blue armor. The second Elite was about to check the dead body when the first stops him. He hisses something before barking out an order. The snipers up top train their weapons down into the small area. The Elite in blue armor fans out to cover my last exit. The last Jackals had moved behind me, and the first Elite blocks my last exit. They don't know for sure I'm still there. So if I stay absolutely still...

My thought is broken when the first Elite throws a Plasma Grenade right in front of me. While it was a lucky throw, it sure made me panic.

Ditching the camofluage, I push off of my heel and dodge to the left, cursing as my shields go down from the explosion. Now I'm completely exposed, and being watched by about twenty Covenant soldiers.

"Oh shit..." I say to myself, watching the soldiers as I recover from my roll. They haven't attacked yet. But that's not necessarily a good thing.

Finally, the first Elite who wears maroon armor steps forwards. I could swear he is grinning. "You assassinate General. You will suffer execution, _heretic_ ," he growls. "I don't think so," I say and activate my Energy Sword.

The Elite gives a furious growl and takes a step forwards, clenching his left fingers and activating what looks like an Energy Blade. It comes out of his gauntlet and has only one blade, instead of two. "A fight to the death? Fine," I say and wait for the Elite to make the first move.

I would have to be faster than ever. I could tell this beast was an experienced fighter, a Zealot. No doubt an expert in the use of energy blades. I had never gone toe-to-toe with another Elite with a sword before. I would hope his temper would get the better of him and he would make a mistake. But I can't rely on that. Go for the kill, no flashy moves. No prolonging the fight. I can't risk that.

As soon as the Elite lunges forwards, I side-step and slice with my sword. But I had taken the bait! The Elite ducks my sword and grabs my wrist. His grip is like a vice and he forces me to drop my sword. Moving my foot back, I ram my elbow into his stomach. His grip loosens just enough for me to free myself and retrieve my blade just in time to block his Energy Blade. I catch the blade overhead and shove it back, jumping away from the dangerous threat. He comes back quickly but I react just as fast by punching with my left arm and cutting a small slice in his upper leg. Alien blood spills from the wound and the Elite gives an angry hiss. I guess he was done testing, because he suddenly begins jabbing again and again with lightning speed. His thrusts are quick and precise, each hit going for different vital spots. I can only block and dodge because he doesn't give me any time for offensive attacks.

I find my opening during a heavy hit that was meant to be a crippling blow. While his fist does hit my shoulder, I don't let myself get knocked off-balance. While he is about to deliver another hit, I lunge forwards with my sword and slice right through his left gauntlet. Blood flows from a shallow wound as the damaged gauntlet falls to the ground.

The Zealot backs off, hissing angrily. But he never gets to attack again because a plasma grenade falls from nowhere and attaches to his head. He can only stare in stunned silence a few seconds before the grenade explodes. I am splattered by his remains, his blood tainting my armor. The Covenant have no time to react, because the ambush is so flawless. Only one kind of soldier could pull this off. UNSC Spartans.

Bullets rain down from the boulders and from the tall grass. A distant Sniper Rifle cracks and takes down the final Elite. A loud explosion takes out the grunts, and the huge hulking form barrels into the Jackals, running them into the ground.

I can only laugh in disbelief and relief as I watch my team finish the Covenant off.

Once the last Covenant soldier is finished, Kia and Parkson drop down from their spots and Kia meets me with a smile. "Glad to see you're okay, sir," she says. "When that tripmine went off, I was sure you were a goner. Good to see you back," 211 says. Parkson taps my shoulder and points to the distant horizon. he then pulls up a new objective on his tacpad. It takes me a moment to realize that another group of Marines had requested an EOD's assistance in securing the way back into a UNSC base. He was the nearest to them and told them he would help. He would be leaving us temporaly for a while.

"Contact us when you're done. We'll be in sector twenty-six," I tell him. He nods and looks to the sky to see a Pelican coming in to evac him. He nods his goodbye and sets off at a jog to catch up with the bird.

"What's next?" 211 asks me. I pause a moment before I remember our next task. "UNSC has painted a bridge for us. A convoy is on its way towards it and we're going to knock it down," I tell him. 211 looks over his shoulder at Parkson who had just left. "Um..." he says in confusion. "We can handle the explosives ourselves. Recon says there are several loose supports that can be easily blown up with remote detonations. We plant the explosives and detonate them once the convoy is in place," I explain. "I can place them," Kia volunteers. I nod and look in the direction of our Falcon. "Lets get moving. Daylight's wasting."


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**1753, February 16th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Planet Thrug, Covenant gapping bridge**

It's an hour's flight to the bridge. At one point, we fly near to the slow moving convoy. The movement is fairly large. We'll have to plant high powered explosives to take them all out. Even then we might have survivors to pick off. But we'll worry about that when the problem arises.

Turns out the bridge gaps two cliff faces that form a canyon. The ocean water spills in between the two cliffs and rushes noisily past. If there are any survivors of the initial blast, they'll be pummeled by the water below. But we will also have to be careful because the surface of the rock is bare of any form of cover. Our attack will have to be precise and perfectly timed.

I land the Falcon on the opposite side of the bridge and watch as Kia grabs the repelling gear. If she is nervous about this, she doesn't show it.

Within a few minutes, Kia is heading for the opposite end of the bridge to set the charges. 211 follows to ensure her safety and I stay behind to watch for danger.

I have to admit, watching Kia repel down the side of the cliff and under the bridge makes me very nervous. I can't even begin to imagine how she feels about this. But we're Spartans. We can't afford to let fear rule our actions. If we do, we'll surely be dead before we can even think about running. So I steel my emotion and turn my gaze to the horizon, scanning for any threats.

At one point I zoom in on the sky because I could have sworn I saw a Banshee. But when I look, there is nothing there. "Speed it up. I think we're being watched," I tell the two Spartans. "Scouts?" 211 asks through the COM channel. I look again in the sky, warily watching where I saw the flying vehicle. "I think so..." I answer.

Fourteen minutes later, Kia is finished and coming back to the surface when I hear a whistle. But before I can register the sound, the green Plasma Missile slams into the side of the bridge and severs the cable that Kia was suspended from.

211 is blown back and lands on his back but even before he lands the Spartan lets out a cry and instantly gets back up. I rush off of the bridge and go for my Assault Rifle. The Banshee loops up and over the bridge and begins to rear back around. I can't see what's going on, and I can't see Kia. Did she fall? Was she still alive? What the hell was going on?!

"Where's Kia?" I ask over the TEAMCOM. The Banshee was out of sight for now, giving us a small window to find our teammate. "Underneath! She grabbed one of the support beams and got up from there," 211 answers. "Kia, I have an idea," I tell the Spartan. There's a moment of silence which makes me thing she was hurt. But she comes back in a calm tone. "I'm listening, sir," she says.

"Once that Banshee comes back for another pass, I need you to hijack it," I say, my eyes scanning for the attacker. Kia doesn't answer again, but when she does she sounds shocked. "Hijack...sir? I don't know how to operate a Banshee."

I spot the Banshee high up in the clouds over the ocean. It's coming down fast and no doubt priming its weapons. "You're going to learn. Get ready, here it comes," I tell her, positioning myself to watch its approach. As I expected, it lets loose a Plasma Missile which slams into the bridge, narrowly missing 211. "Jump!" I tell Kia as it begins its underpass.

I didn't see her jump, but I do see her rise up with the banshee. She is latched tightly onto the wing, her feet safely perched. I race to the other side to watch her force open the top hatch and rip out the Elite that was operating it. The Banshee dips a few feet before Kia takes over.

"The controls are on either side of the console. Level it out and slow it down by pulling the controls up and back," 211 tells her. He was the one trained with vehicles seeing as how he is an EVA. He had studied Banshee controls enough to know how to fly it.

I watch as the Banshee dips again but then flies sharply upwards. It takes her a few moments, but she levels it out and flies straight. "I lost the detonater when the cable snapped," Kia says, slowly circling overhead. "But I can set off a chain reaction using the Plasma missile."

"You'll have to be quick. I see the convoy," 211 says, looking over his shoulder to the far horizon. There on the very edge of the horizon was a small shape. But soon a large line of ships appeared. Footsoldiers following in front and troop carriers in the middle. "Stay hidden. We don't want them trying to contact you," I say and motion for 211 to follow me off of the bridge.

Kia flies high into the air until all is left is a very small dot. Me and 211 retreat to the Falcon and get ready for the detonation.

It takes another then minutes, but the vehicles reach the bridge. They don't even hesitate before beginning to cross. The soldiers narrow up and begin passing as well.

I look up to see a fast falling figure gracefully arcing for the bridge. She's going in for a nose dive. I can see the thrusters burning fully, propelling the Banshee even faster towards the ground. Just as I think she is about to crash, the thrusters cut off and she snaps into a level flight-line. But just as she levels out, the plasma missile fires and the momentum carries it hard into the undercarriage of the bridge.

There's a moment of hesitation before the ear shattering explosives hit. The entire bridge goes up into smoke and it begins to fall. The farthest soldiers to the other end of the bridge have no time to react as it buckles underneath their feet. I can't hear the screams, but I can imagine them.

The blast from the bridge slams into us and almost knocks the both of us over. But we manage to stay upright enough to see the aftermath.

The entire bridge was blown and nothing was left. Kia had finished off the soldiers that had ran. Our mission is complete.

"Come on back down, Kia," I tell the Spartan, watching her circle overhead. "Yes sir," she answers with a laugh in her tone. I can tell that excursion was exhilirating to her. I would have let her play around a little more but we have another mission in que for us. Involving ODST's this time.

The mission briefing involved a distress call and coordinates. The briefing told us that an ODST team had gotten trapped trying to infiltrate a Covenant barrier. UNSC had tried to raise them and only got broken information. To our understanding, they were engaged in a heated firefight that they were losing. Two of their teammates were already wounded. We are the closest to the fight, so we were being dispatched. But the distress call would bring us very close to the frontlines, closer than we've ever been. Training can only get us so far. I've heard that doing the actual thing is a lot more intimidating.

We board the Falcon and soon take off. We rise high over the nearby mountain range and my ears pop with the altitude. I remember the last time we were this high. Hokai had taken the eight of us into a Pelican and shoved us out at different locations. I was one of the last. We weren't given instructions, as usual, and it only took us thirty minutes to find each other, and another thirty minutes to get back to the base. It was one of the few times we cooperated with Red Team.

I find my thoughts wondering back to Hokai. What he thought of us. Did he know what we are doing? Does he care? I know he wasn't exactly the sympathetic type, but I sometimes wonder...

My thoughts are quickly broken when 211 speaks up nervously. "Sir...what are the frontlines going to be like?" he asks. I can tell he has been thinking about this for a while. It has been bothering him.

I am silent, because I don't know. They have been everywhere I have. Experienced the same things. Heard the same things. I can only guess what we're getting into. "Chaotic. Unorganized," I answer, trying to provide my team with some sort of answer. "Just stay near each other and check your radar. We should come out of this okay."

That seems to satisfy him because he doesn't say anything further. I wish I could provide all of the answers for them. To know everything they want. But I'm in the same boat they are. Teamwork and strategy are the most important things we have right now.

We get our first taste of frontline action when a pair of Banshees rises out of the treelines and comes up to us in a split second. They are pummeling the Falcon with plasma fire, tearing it apart. The beaten bird barely holds together as I whirl around and open fire with the chingun. The heavy rounds quickly tear into the Banshees and one quickly goes down. I can hear Kia taking potshots at the last with her Sniper Rifle, but only one bullet hits. "Safe your ammo!" I tell her, whirling again to face the last attacker. I open fire, leading the bullets to hit the vehicle. But the pilot activates the thrusters and quickly pulls into a loop, avoiding most of my fire. It comes out of the loop and faces us. I can already see its intentions and I jerk the falcon to the side to avoid a plasma missile. With another burst of rounds, the last Banshee goes down.

"Status?" I ask my team, hovering in place to catch my breath and calm my heart. "Fine," 211 answers. "Same," kia says.

I lean back in my seat for a minute before setting forwards again, keeping a watchful eye out for any more attackers.

We safely arrive at the place of the distress call, and we understand the nature of their situation better. We can spot the Covenant soldiers firing on the ODST's who are just barely hidden behind a group of boulders. They are pressed against a cliff-face, completely inescapable. We fly just low enough to see their two wounded team members. From here I can see the large amounts of blood and biofoam.

"Kia, I'm dropping you off here. Cover our six's," I tell our Sniper as we rise above the cliff face. "Roger that," she answers. The Falcon dips slightly as she jumps out and lands on the rock. "211, stay with me and let Kia take out the larger targets," I tell 211.

Once we land, we sneak around the back and climb the boulders into the ODST's hiding place. It only now occurs to me that we should have announced ourselves first. By dropping suddenly into their area, I receive a shotgun blast straight to my chest. The blast knocks me back and drops my shields, making me curse in pain. 211 darts forwards and grabs the top of his shotgun. I get to my feet and am instantly in front of another ODST who had almost opened fire with his Assault Rifle. It's only at the last second that their commander snaps at them to stop. "You fucking idiots! That's our calvalry!" He roars. 211 backs off and I do the same. "I apologize for the miscommunication, sir," I tell the commander, putting my own wepaon on my back. "It's fine. At least you're here. We've been getting our asses handed to us for a good three hours. UNSC couldn't send anyone out until now," the ODST says.

"Why the hell do we have to fight with a bunch of cyclopses?" One of the ODST's asks angrily. "If these damn 'Spartans' think they're so good, why don't they just win the war for us?!"

The commander is on the ODST in an instant, standing an inch from his face. "Are you doing any better?" The commander hisses. The ODST doesn't have an answer. "Then shut your hole and let them do their job!"

With that I signal 211 to move forwards out of the side to avoid detection. I follow close behind and tell Kia to get ready. Once she says she is in position, we make our move.

211 takes a grenade and rolls it into the path of a Jackal. The Jackal can only manage a mortified screech before being blown up. The extended blast damages three other grunts and draws the attention of two Elites. After the grenade, we quickly follow up by breaking cover and move forwards. I crouch to one knee and let 211 go in with his Shotgun. While I am at medium range, 211 is in close. He manages to take down an Elite and five grunts before having to dodge aside to let me take over. The second elite takes an entire clip before I have to reload. The Elite roars furiously and charges towards me with its fists held high. A Sniper Rifle cracks and the Elite is stopped dead in his tracks. Kia switches targets and downs a suicide grunt that was running to my left.

After reloading, I step behind 211 and fire from behind as he charges in once again, stepping quickly around his attackers to shoot them in the back.

Within no time, we've got the last of the Covenant retreating out of the rocks. With their Elite leaders dead, the Grunts are panicking.

After one last volley of rounds, the rest of the soldiers are dead. Kia jumps off of her perch and lands with a roll at the bottom. We go back after one last sweep and talk to the ODST's who are waiting in the open ground.

"You guys are badass," the ODST that was earlier giving us crap says. "I think I've learned my lesson about Spartans; don't fuck with 'em."

"You did well, Spartans. If you can call us evac, you can be on your way," the ODST commander says. I look to Kia who nods and steps away for a moment.

"sir, have you head anything about the nineteenth regiment?" I ask him. "Other than they got a Spartan helping them? No," he answers. I frown and begin to worry. Parkson was supposed to check in fifteen minutes ago. We're in an area that could receive his call, too. It isn't like him to miss something like that. "Where were they last located?" I ask him. The Commander asks one of his teammates who just shrugs. "One of the evac'd cities, last I knew. If you're going to save your teammate, you had better do it fast. UNSC is pulling everybody out," the ODST says. My frown deepens once I hear that bit of news.

"We're going for Parkson," I tell Kia and 211. Kia nods once again. "Evac is on its way for them. It should arrive in four minutes," she says.

As we are loading into the Falcon, I am about to pop the hatch when my COM crackles to life. There is a long minute of static before I hear what sounds like ragged breaths. The sound of footfalls comes soon after, followed by the strange language of an Elite. There's the sound of an impact, then a thud. The line goes silent and I sit in stunned silence.

"Jackson?" Kia asks, poking her head out of the Falcon. I am snapped out of my trance and suddenly realize what had just happened. "Parkson just contacted me. The Covenant have him," I tell her. "What?!" she says, grabbing the edge of the Falcon and bending the metal in anger. "We are going after him, right?" 211 asks in a concerned tone. "Yes. If the UNSC does not call us off," I answer. But even I am unsure if I can obey the UNSC with Parkson in the hands of the Covenant.

With one last check on my tac-pad, I take the Falcon off of the ground and rise high into the air before flying at maximum burn for the city that houses our last teammate.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**1915, February 18th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Planet Thrug, Gavlon City**

It isn't until we're actually in the city that we realize the gravity of the situation. There is nothing. The skies are empty. No Banshees, no Phantoms and I've learned enough to know that's a bad thing. The Covenant are pulling out, which means that they're going to begin Glassing soon.

I begin to think this is a wild goose chase. Why would they keep him alive when they've killed so many? This city is lost. This planet is lost. It's better to cut our losses and-

A friendly IFF tag suddenly pops up on my HUD. It's a waypoint that sits three miles away. The tag reads P-333. Not hopeless after all.

"You see that?" 211 asks a moment after seeing it. "I'll be damned...he made it," Kia says. "Covenant prison yard. I'll bet we'll find more than him there," I say, looking up the coordinates.

As it turns out, the camp isn't as guarded as I thought it may be. Most of the Covenant soldiers had already evac'd out, leaving a small force behind. It seems like they're leaving them to be glassed.

The city is mostly empty, as well. No Covenant ships clutter the skies and no AA guns fire at us. It's completely deserted. How long do we have until they begin glassing? We had better hurry.

We find an LZ where I drop off Kia and 211. They begin their approach into the camp, assassinating targets as they go. It feels as if I'm overlooking something, but I quickly dismiss it as paranoia. As soon as the two give me the OK, I begin my approach and rise up over my cover.

The chingun flares to life and rains hell on the enemies below. Grunts and Elites alike scamper to cover and right into the waiting knives of the assassins. An eerie green glow shows that a Fuel Rod cannon had just been shot, and the blast grazes the cockpit and shakes the Falcon, forcing me to lose a few feet of altitude. A minute later, the Grunt falls from a knife in its throat.

And just like that, the camp was cleared. A quick sweep clarified this.

I pulled up higher and began to circle around as the two Spartans searched the camp. "What have you found?" I ask the Spartans. "A squad of Marines and an ODST," 211 answers. "Kia has called them evac. But..." 211's voice falters and I can hear him hesitating. "Parkson's not there," I finish grimly. "Yeah. One of the Marines said they got him into a Phantom. And another overhead the Elites saying something about a rendevouz. The Phantom left shortly after we arrived," 211 reports. "What about the IFF?" I ask him. "His helmet. He activated it before they took him," he answers.

So they have our teammate. Those bastards stole him. But not for long. We'll shoot down every damned Covenant Ship before they keep him.

"See these soldiers out. Then we're going after him," I say, looking down on the camp. "Roger that. Evac ETA, two minutes," 211 says.

I look up through black smoke to see a Pelican, cutting through the smoke like a phantom. It arrives and pulls around to let the soldiers inside. Three Marines act as escorts and give us the OK once they're aboard. "I saw a phantom four minutes out. If you hurry you can catch up. You had better hurry, admiral Harrison has issued an evacuation," The Marine tells us. "Appreciated, sir," I say.

I land and let my team get inside, then hurry and shoot toward where the Pelican just came from.

Soon enough, we cut through the smoke. But I see nothing. Nothing but fire and ruins. Maybe he's gone...maybe we'll never see him again. It's impossible to say where he is or what's happening to him. It's better to just-

"Bogey sighted!" 211 calls, snapping me out of my dark thoughts. "Painting it now." A red waypoint appears on my HUD, showing a tiny dot in the distance. But by the looks of it, it's a Phantom. Alone. Unguarded.

Without another word, I kick in the Falcon's afterburners and shoot after the Phantom. It only has time to slow down as I slow down and open fire with the Chingun, forcing it to turn on us. The plasma rounds chase us, but I veer sharp and avoid its shots. "211, you're going aerial," I call, climbing above the enemy ship. "Once I get above, drop down and get inside. Capture the ship and tell us when you're done."  
Before 211 has a chance to argue or complain, Kia pushes him out once we're over the Phantom. I hear him land and roll. He slides a few inches before activating his grav boots and staying low.

I veer off and watch as he approaches the edge of the wing. There's a tense moment as he figures out what to do, but then he reaches down and pries open the hatch. He disappears inside and I can only imagine what's going on inside.

"I hope you know what you're doing, sir. None of us have done something like that before," Kia says from the back. "Sometimes you have to make the hard decisions...besides. He's an EVA. He knows what to do," I answer, hoping that he really does. Hoping and praying that he doesn't mess up and be killed.

All at once, the Phantom fires a stray round straight at the ground and dives sharply. It goes in for a nose-dive and seems like it's going to crash. But luckily it straightens out at the last second before ramming into a building and smoothly veers away. There's a tense moment of radio silence before 211 comes on, panting from the battle he just had. "Package secured, sir. Hostiles eliminated...heading for extraction. You might want to hop in. The Falcon isn't space ready," 211 says. "The Admiral called off all extraction ships."

"Alright. We're on our way," I tell him. "Kia, I need you to jump off and land on the Phantom. We're taking it out." Kia sounds a little startled, but obeys. "Yes...sir."

I level out a few inches over the Phantom and hear the thump as Kia jumps out. She slides to the edge and nearly falls off, but catches herself and climbs over to the waiting ramp which she lowers herself onto. "I'm jumping out. Keep it steady," I tell 211. "Sir...maybe I should just land first," he says. "No time. Do what I say," I say.

This has to be the craziest thing I've done yet. I'm going to leave the deactivated Falcon mid-flight and jump onto the top of a flying Phantom hundreds of feet off of the ground. If I screw up, I'm dead. But this is what being a Spartan is about, isn't it? Insane stunts. Defying the odds.

I calm my pounding heart and begin the deactivation sequence. This has to be fast and coordinated...I need to be ready.

As soon as the Falcon powers down my arm flies up and pushes open the hatch. The wind whips at my body and threatens to knock me off balance. The Falcon hits the Phantom's top, making it dive slightly. But then the Falcon begins to slide off. I push out of the cockpit and make a wild jump. Too late! I waited to long, damn it!

My heart jumps into my throat as the Phantom's top passes my vision and the smoke filled void below me fills my eyes. I reach out my arm and somehow manage to snag the edge of the wing. My fingers grasp for dear life as I swing helplessly. Not looking back down, I reach up with my other hand and grasp the edge and after taking a calming breath, I pull myself back up.

The wind on top of the phantom is fierce but I had activated my grav-boots which anchored me to the slippery surface. I keep crouched and look for the edge again. I can't see the ramp, but I know it's there.

A few seconds later, I'm inside of the Phantom and we're headed for space. I kneel down to catch my breath, trying to not think of how close I had just come to death.

"You're one lucky as hell Spartan," Kia says, smiling. "Yeah...thanks," I say, getting back to my feet. I remove my helmet and run a hand over the stubble on my head and taking a deep breath. I then see parkson, sitting against the wall. Once he sees me, he smiles. But the smile is tired and pained. I can see why.

His left eye is black and he has a large cut on his lip. Dried blood stains the top of his head and a bleeding head wound drips down his right ear.

"Good to see you safe, Spartan," I tell him. He nods and takes something from his belt then tosses it to me. "What's this?" I ask him, studying the small chip. He just smiles slyly. "You stole their information?" I ask in disbelief. He nods, still smiling. "Good work. I didn't know you had it in you," I say, laughing.

"Look outside. You might want to see this..." 211 says from the cockpit.

All three of us head to the open ramps and look outside, but it's a grim sight. Covenant ships are descending from the clouds, four Cruisers. All with their sights set on destruction. The last few Covenant enemies are fleeing, and just in time.

A shockwave of heat washes over us as their Glassing beams touch down and incinerate everything in their way. Their slow paths of destruction starts, just as we leave. I turn away from the grizzly scene and 211 closes the ramps.

The UNSC Faithful is waiting just out of orbit. They are hidden from the rest of the Covenant ships on the other side of the planet. We are met with force as two Sabres come to meet us. They swoop overhead and underneath, priming their weapons in an intimidation maneuver.

"Covenant ship, state your business here or be destroyed," one of the UNC Sabres says. "This is Spartan-211 of Fireteam Blue. We have captured this ship and are requesting docking permission aboard the UNSC Faithful," 211 answers. As expected, the Sabres don't answer immideatly. "We are reading a Covenant bio-signature aboard your ship," he says, sounding angry. Once we hear that, the three of us ready our weapons. 211 leaves the cockpit and joins us. "Reading a signature...here," Kia says, pointing her pistol at an access hatch. She slowly approaches it and opens it once she reaches it.

A...creature appears. It floats a few feet from the ground and has a strange harness attached to it. Several tentacles droop from its body and a snake-like head turns to look at us with large eyes. It emits a startled noise and bumps into the back of the "closet". "The hell is that thing?" Kia says, keeping her weapon trained. Parkson answers by motioning for us to lower our weapons. "Why? Do you know?" I ask him. He nods and hands it his gun. I am about to object when the creature just begins to take it apart. The speed at which is does that is surprising. It lays the pieces on the ground and pokes at them before repiecing the gun and giving it back to Parkson who smiles back at us. "Is that thing...an Engineer?" kia asks in surprise. Parkson nods, crossing his arms.

"Covenant ship. Confirm bio-signature," one of the Sabres says, the voice blasting from the open Cockpit. 211 quickly gets back and answers. "Bio-signature confirmed. It's an...Engineer. Non-hostile," he says. "Confirm, Engineer?" The pilot asks, sounding confused. "A floating...alien. I'm not sure what it is. The Captain might want to have a look," 211 says. "Docking permission granted. Welcome home, Spartans," the second Sabre says. The two ships pull off and leave the Spartans to dock.

The soldiers working in the hangar are all shocked to see a Phantom pulling into their hangar. A few even pull their guns, coming to greet them with hostility. "Weapons down," I tell them, not wanting to get shot.

The ramps lower and Parkson keeps the Engineer behind him as we leave the ship. "Spartans? What the living hell are you-whoa! What IS that?" A Marine exclaims upon seeing the Engineer. "He's an Engineer, apparently. Non-hostile by what we can tell," Jackson explains. "We'll take this from here, soldiers," another Marine says upon approaching the ship. "Captain Lorenzo and Admiral Harrison want to see this thing."

Parkson steps aside to let the Marines take the Engineer which was following him, but it makes a startled noise and recoils back behind Parkson when the Marines try to take him. Parkson takes one of its tentacles and gently strokes it. He runs a hand down its side, smiling warmly. The engineer looks at him, seemingly communicating in some way, and then leaves his side to follow the Marine escorts.

I raise an eyebrow at Parkson who just shrugs.

The medics check us out after a few tests and discharge parkson with some bandages.

We then head to the mess hall to pick up some food, which is very welcome after our last mission.

Eating with all of the other soldiers around me is...unnerving. We keep getting stares and I notice that others are muttering about us. Some aren't saying nice things, either. I know none of them will attack in such a public place, but I still don't like it. Are Spartans really this uncommon? I've seen plenty. But that has been in Spartan-specific stations.

My bed is a welcome thing. I don't even bother to remove my boots before falling into it. At times my bed has seemed hard and cold, but now it's the most welcoming thing.

It isn't until I sit up and truly look at my team to see why we were getting stared at. We look ghostly and tormented. Everyone's eyes are sunken and blood-shot. Our faces are very dirty and we just look like hell. I guess that's what being in the field does to you. Fighting as much as we did, traveling, running on nothing but adrenaline.

But we're home now. And that's enough safety for me. I fall asleep with a smile on my face, glad for some peaceful rest.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**1616, March 14th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ UNSC Faithful**

The warfront is shifting. It is as plain as day. The fleets are moving closer and closer to the inner colonies. Within a few years, we would be right at Reach's front doors. I hope that it won't come to that. But this is a war after all.

I could tell by the soldier's moral that the war wasn't going well. Planets were being quickly lost. Spartans and Marines were dying, entire fleets were going dark. But yet we fought, refusing to surrender to the Covenant enemy. That's what I admire about the human race, their will to survive no matter what.

As it turns out, the Faithful is a largely Spartan inhabited ship full of mainly Spartan III's. These Spartans are very different from the II's we are used to seeing and being around. They are a lot like the ODST's, except not as arrogant. We learn a lot from talking to them.

We slowly begin to learn how the UNSC and its branches work. The chain of command, the personnel. We had already learned these things while in training, but we learn more about the lax side of it all.

The Spartan III's treat us...differently. Almost with fear. They don't know how to talk to us or how to react to what we do. Fortunately, we always keep to ourselves and almost never engage in conversation unless it's required.

Some have called us "green horns" and "Noobs". I don't know if these are insults, but I ignore them.

Parkson spends most of his time aboard the Faithful with the Engineer. He helps it communicate and escorts it around. But the most interesting thing is that the Engineer is teaching him sign language. It uses a similar mode of communication with its tentacles, signing to communicate, and teaches Parkson the same. Kia is learning with him as his interpreter. The process is interesting and fun to watch.

We have learned from the doctors that Parkson has gone mute. He hasn't got the ability to speak anymore. Something went wrong during the augmentation and his vocal cords were permanently damaged and surgery can't fix it. But Parkson has been coping well, surprisingly.

I instruct each of my teammates to practice in their specializations. Hokai didn't give us them for nothing. I practice with simulations and different tactics for my Air Assault. I learn the in and outs of all aerial attack vehicles. I take most interest in Falcons and pelicans. I admire the Sparrowhawk, but it sits too low to the ground.

We work alone for the most part. Work is all we need to do. Get it done as fast as you can, that's what Hokai taught. Some have commented that it's "too damn weird" how we never socialize. But to us, working with others is socializing.

One day when I'm working on repairing a Falcon in the ships hanger, a Spartan III approaches me and just watches until I am forced to leave the undercarriage of the bird to engage him. I sit up and look at the Spartan. He is six feet tall and wears his biolayer. He has an amused expression and stands with his arms crossed. His hair is an auburn color and his eyes are hazel, but darker than 211's. His face shows many years of battle experience by the way of scars and age.

"I thought I smelled another Air Assault," the Spartan says. Jackson's face falls and he tries to identify the Spartan. But he's never seen him before. "May I ask your name?" Jackson asks, standing up and pushing away the roll cart. The Spartan extends his hand with a smile. "Jacobs-414 of fireteam Zeta, Air Assault division," he answers. Jackson takes the hand and shakes it formally. "Jackson-332 of Blue Team," Jackson says.

Jacobs chipper attitude off-sets Jackson. He isn't used to such a happy soldier, nevermind one that engages him like this.

"So, where's the rest of your squad, squad leader?" Jacobs asks, noting the blue stripe on his chestplate. "Working," Jackson answers. He is a little annoyed by Jacobs, but is too polite to tell him to leave. "I've pulled your records, friend. Don't worry, I do this to all of the new arrivals that come aboard. That's some serious shit you've been through for just your first year. Sending newbies to Thrug? I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must have been," Jacobs says, shaking his head. Jackson furrows his brow, he hadn't heard much about the situation on Thrug. Or why they were pulled out. "What happened there? We were behind lines," Jackson says.

Jacobs' expression falls and his chipper attitude is replaced by a haunted tone. "We lost. Battle seemed to be going well until another Covie fleet showed up out of nowhere. Took out more than half of our fleet before we could pull out. The situation dirtside wasn't any better. Entire cities wiped before we could even get there. The Covenant weren't so nice to our soldiers either. And I don't mean by killing," Jacobs says. "I even heard they captured a Spartan II. Poor bastard."

"That was one of my teammates. We got him out before pulling out ourselves," Jackson explains, a little surprised that the news had gotten out. "Really? Everyone thought he was dead. Good to know he got out," Jacobs says, the same chipper smile returning.

"You know, Jackson. I don't think you have any other friends. And it's good to have more than your team watching your back," Jacobs says, not giving the other Spartan a chance to say no. "Meet me in the mess during dinner. I'll introduce you to the rest of my squad. I'll see you later. Lighten up, Spartan. Life is only so short!"

I finish up my work and go to check up on my team. I find Parkson and Kia working with the Engineer, learning sign language. I come in and silently watch them. It's an interesting process, watching both Parkson and Kia mimic the hand gestures and adapt it to their own use. But it's lunch time soon, so I have to break their lesson. "Heads up, soldiers. Dinner is on in five minutes. Meet me there," I tell them and leave.

I find 211 in our quarters, sharpening his combat knife. He had taken off his biolayer, which annoys me a little. I had specifically told him to keep it on just in case we were needed on the field. But I hold my tongue and instead stay calm. "Dinner is on in five. Meet us there," I say.

211 is silent for a few seconds before lifting his head. It's just then that I realize how much he has changed. His face is significantly older than when we started. Just a few months ago, we were fresh out of augmentation and ready to take the world head-on. But now we've been thrown into the fire and survived. And it's changed us. The faces I see now aren't the same ones from a few months ago, the ones that had come out alive from the augmentations. The worse we had faced at the time was Red Team's attacks. Now, we've faced death and lived. And I'm proud.

"Sir...is it really worth it?" 211 asks, his expression stoic. "This fight. I'm beginning to doubt if our efforts actually count. We fought tooth and nail for that colony, but we still lost it in the end."

I don't have much of an answer for him. I have been doubting it myself. We lost an entire colony and millions of lives even though we tried our hardest to save it. The Covenant are pushing deeper and deeper into our lines against our best efforts. Will surrendering really be that bad? Can a quick death be worse than dragging it out for this long?

All I can do is shake my head. "I don't know, 211. I don't have that answer."

Later on we all meet up in the mess hall. It's a large room that is simply bustling with activity. Marines and Spartans alike sit down to eat their meals and fill the room with the hum of chatter. It's a little stressful. So many soldiers cramped into one room together. Just waiting for some excuse to fight.

After we get our food, I hear my name being called out. At first I think it's just another person with the same name, but then I spot Jacobs sitting with three other Spartans and realize it's him and his team.

We sit down at the table and Jacobs starts up the conversation. "You know, it's really hard to miss four tall as hell Spartans in a crowd of midgets," Jacobs says, grinning. "Do we know you?" 211 asks in confusion. "I met with your leader here a little while ago. Appearently he forgot to tell you! I'm Jacobs-414, and this is my team," the Spartan III says, gesturing to the other three Spartans with his fork.

Each Spartan sits next to each other, sitting in their biolayer. Their faces are scarred and show many years of battle experience. But none of them look mean or withdrawn. They are downright friendly looking, even though a little intimidating.

The Spartan sitting next to Jacobs has dark brown hair with a distinct red streak in it. He is the tallest of the group and has an air of leadership. But he doesn't look arrogant, quite the opposite. His dark green eyes speak of amusement with everything and a kind demeanor. "I'm Zeke-087, squad leader. If my team screws up, they'll be answering to me," he says.

The girl sitting next to him gives him a sly look. "Even if you're the one screwing up?" The others look as if something had happened to their leader that was ironic. But keep it to themselves.

The girl next to Zeke has dark green hair with streaks of black faded through the green. Her hair is long but tied into a tight ponytail that only barely stretches past the back of her neck. She has striking blue eyes that seem to shift in color with her emotions. "Jessica-104, at your service. I'm the brains of the operation, seeing as how these lug-nuts can't seem to find their own hands," she says, looking specifically to the Spartan next to her. He rolls his eyes, tolerating her teasing. "Funny," he says. "I seem to remember your hair crisis on the battlefield."

The Spartan sitting next to her is slightly taller than the others, but sits hunched over the table with his hands folded in front of him. He has thick and messy hair that looks very unkept. Shortened areas speak of messy self-shave jobs with a combat knife. But his brown eyes speak of intelligence and humor. He even seems to be laughing at himself. "Arnold-019 ready to fight, as long as it isn't with Jessica," he says, nodding to Blue Team.

"Team, this is Jackson-332, Spartan-211, Parkson-333, and Kia-334. Since I know you haven't pulled their files yet, I went ahead and did it for you," Jacobs says. "Remember hearing about the greenies who were sent to Thrug? Yeah. This is them."

Jessica raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Don't look like much. I could take 'em down with my pinkie," she says, flexing her pinkie finger threatingly. "You take down a Spartan II? Don't kid yourself," Arnold says. "Cut it out, you two. I don't think our friends here need your shit after what they went through," Zeke says sharply. "They were shot down, stranded, shot at, and were dirtside during that last fight. I think they deserve more than you bufoons can give."

I'm genuinely surprised by his praise. I didn't expect it from a war veteran, especially a III. "Um...you're not bothering us," I say awkwardly. "Now look at what you've done, you've broken him with your good comments! He's a green horn for gods sake. He's used to those drillers. 'You're pathetic and not worth the UNSC's time!' how's that? Better?" Jacobs says with a grin. He sounds strangely accurate, actually.

"I don't mean to sound rude, but...how did you join the UNSC?" Kia asks, speaking up for the first time. "By joe, she does have a voice!" Jessica exclaims.

"We were all orphans. As is regulation for most III's nowadays," Zeke says, ignoring his teammate. "Dr Catherine Halsey found us and offered us a chance to fight back. What could we say? It was better than doing nothing."

"It's better to fight for as long as you can even when the odds are stacked against you than to roll over and die. Because if you give up, then you're throwing away any chance of ever doing something good. A slim chance is better than no chance," Jacobs says, looking specifically at 211 as if he knew what he had been thinking. 211 returns a startled gaze and holds it for a good few seconds before he understands it. He nods...and something changes. To this day I don't know what went on inside of his mind, but it was an instant and obvious. I think at that moment, he vowed to never give up. To never stop fighting. And the rest of us picked up on it as well. I think that day Blue team truly became Spartans and the quiet newly-augmented green horns were left behind.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**2031, April 16th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/UNSC Faithful**

As it turns out, Fireteam Zeta has become very helpful to us. They take us under their wings and show us everything we've missed. They even help us develop our specialties.

I learn so much from Jacobs and Zeke, it's amazing. I admire Jacobs for his intelligence with vehicles and his aim. But I also admire Zeke for his leadership and cool head. When crap goes down, he doesn't lose his cool and explode. Instead he stays calm and tries to defuse the situation.

Each Spartan has practice in more than one specialization. Zeke and Jacobs are best with Air Assault, but have experience as EVA's. Arnold is also an EOD and has blown up a good number of things before. Jessica is a technician as well and has begun to show Kia lots of tips and tricks.

Fireteam Zeta is incredibly close. It's surprising. They're like siblings, related by blood.

211 has taken an interest in sparring. Arnold has been training with him, showing him how to use his height and weight to his advantage. He's even given him a few martial art lessons.

Parkson and Kia mainly keep to themselves, learning from the Engineer. Parkson in particular seems to have made very good friends with it. I haven't been around the two that often, but I can still tell.

We haven't been assigned any missions yet, and that's beginning to worry me. Have we been pushed that far back that we don't have anywhere to fight? But Jacobs reassures that it's only a recuperating phase after the battle on Thrug.

But what I've seen is beginning to get to me. The dead aliens. The mangled humans. The fear in the civilians eyes as they flee from the Covenant. The memories play like an old film in my mind, repeating again and again. It's dragging me down and I can't escape from it and it's cutting me deep.

Zeke enters the room that I'm in, the observatory, but doesn't approach me. I watch him as he approaches the bar and grabs a bottle of sorts and pours the white liquid into a glass. He then makes his way over to where I'm sitting and sits across from me. I'm trying to figure out what to say, but his gaze speaks of understanding. So I stay silent.

The Spartan startles me by setting the small glass down and sliding it across with his fingers. The glass stops just inches from falling off of the edge. "Here. This works wonders," he says, leaning back on the couch.

I furrow my brow, confused as to why he'd be giving me whatever this is. It's too thick to be water, and too miscolored to be milk. It smells strange as well. My confusion must have been apparent because Zeke speaks up. "Alcohol. It'll become your best friend."

I remember what Hokai had told us about drinking. That it would "prevent any logic and strategic thinking". I don't want to be unprepared, so I politely push the glass away. But Zeke insists. "Trust me, Jackson. If you live to be as old as us, you'll need this to forget the shit you'll see."

I take the drink and study it. It sloshes like water, which it obviously isn't. As I am contemplating drinking it or not, curiosity gets the best of me and I down the liquid in one gulp.

At first, it burns, but it gets a little warmer going down. Obviously, I looked conflicted because Zeke gives a laugh and nods. "Burns, doesn't it? Don't worry. You'll get used to it."

"How are you feeling? Don't need the ER yet do you?" Zeke asks in a teasing tone.

The ER? How? I'm feeling great. Giggly great. What was I so sad about earlier? Oh the hell with it. No use worrying about it now. I bet 211 would love this!

I didn't realize I had gotten up until I find myself at the door with Zeke pushing me back. "I can't let you embarrass yourself, sorry. You'll have to wait it out in here." I make an annoyed noise and go back to the main area where I sit down on the couch. It's so comfortable. I'll just shut me eyes for a few...

A splitting headache makes me snap my eyes open. The light blinds me and I'm forced to close them again. I'm aware of something clutched in my hands, resting hard on my legs. It's a container of some sort. Maybe a bucket. My stomach suddenly heaves and vomit comes flying out of my mouth, splattering my face as it comes into contact with the bucket.

Once I pull away from the bucket, I find several Spartans standing over me, half of them with worried looks. "You said he only had a shot?" one of them asks, looking to the Spartan right beside me. "To be fair, it was Vodka," the one beside me says. I recognize it as Zeke. "He's a green horn. Let him be," Jacobs says from nearby. "I've drank with Spartans his age and they could at least handle a single shot of fuckin' Vodka!" Jessica says. Her loud voice is like a hammer against my head and makes me groan as I rest my head over the bucket, feeling my stomach beginning to heave again. "Oh shut your pie hole, Jessica. You know how hang-overs are," Arnold says, shoving the female Spartan. "Ah, whatever. I'm going to bed. Tell me when he's recovered. I want to laugh in his face," Jessica says and leaves the room.

After I'm done vomiting a second time, I look up at the others and feel my stomach settling a little. Arnold hands me two small pills and a bottle of water. "Here, it'll help with the nausia," he says. I gladly take the water and the pills and down them both. Within a few minutes, my stomach begins to settle and I set down the bucket which is surprisingly heavy. Or was I just feeling weak?

"You scared us for a little while there," 211 says, crossing his arms. "I guess you've learned your lesson about drinking. I think Hokai kept you away from his stash for a reason," Kia says with a chuckle. "Did I get...drunk?" I ask, looking at the others. "You got wasted," Zeke says with a sympathetic look. Jacobs pats me on the back with a grin. "Don't worry, buddy. It happened to us all at one point," he says.

I realize we're in the partly empty mess hall and it's late. How long did I black out for?

"You should sleep off this hangover. We've got a mission in the morning. We'll be accompanying you guys so you don't screw up. Can you three get him back to his bed safely?" Jacobs asks my teammates. "Yes. It's not a problem," 211 answers before Kia can. "Alright. We're heading off. See you in the morning," Jacobs says and leaves with his team.

211 helps me to my feet and escorts me back to our room where I slump into my bed, groaning. The walk was the longest of my life. It seemed to take ages.

"Careful on the liqor next time, squad leader," Kia says with a smile. Parkson then looks to Kia and signs something with his hands. Kia nods and gives me a salute, followed by an amused glance. She backs out and leaves me and 211 to ourselves. "Our next op is in a few hours. Rest up so you're prepared. I think it's more training than anything serious. Zeta has some specialised tasks set up for us that they'll be working each of us through. It's going to be...fun," 211 says with a small chuckle. I can only manage a grunt and burry my face deeper into the pillow. "I'll leave you alone, then," 211 says after a moment's silence.

He leaves and I can hear him walking to the far wall where he soon shuts off the lights which thankfully eases some of the skull shattering headache throbs.

I find my mind wandering to our last missions again. The faces of the damned. The lost...but I fall asleep before my thoughts can get very far.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**0700, April 17th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ UNSC Faithful**

Waking up the next morning was terrible. My head was still hurting but luckily the nausea had passed. I was terribly hungry, though. I considered grabbing something on my way to the showers, but decided against it.

When I sit up and open my eyes, I find my team gone. Their beds are made but empty, and their bedside gear is gone too. Fearing they had left without me, I quickly swing my legs out of bed and get to my feet. After pulling on my shoes and retrieving Hokai's knife, I jog down to the armory and find Fireteam Zeta and the rest of my team fully armored.

Once I see them, they turn with concerned glances and Zeke motions for the others to leave us alone. "Why did you leave without me?" I ask them, frowning slightly. "Sorry, sir. We tried to wake you a few times but you were passed out. This isn't a very important mission so we figured you could sit it out and recover," 211 says apologetically. "Well I'm awake now," I snap, sounding angrier than I am. I pass my Spartans and enter the locker rooms where I retrieve my armor.

Soon after suiting up I rejoin my team who are again chatting with Fireteam Zeta. "I'm ready," I tell them, placing my helmet over my head. "Good. We dust off ASAP. We came out of slipspace about an hour ago so we're above the planet now. Just be aware, we're not going to be the only UNSC personnel dirtside. So check your fire," Zeke says and pulls on his helmet.

Their armor is strangely shaped. It looks a little like ours, but different. "What armor is that?" I ask the other Spartans. Arnold gestures to his armor with a proud smile. "SPI II. Only the state-of-the-art armor for us Air Assault's," he says. "SPI?" I ask, not knowing what the abbreviation means. "Semi Powered Infiltration," Zeke explains. "Means we can go invisible. The Elites aren't the only ones who have it now," Arnold says with a smirk. "Partial invisibility. Plates reflect the light. It's not that strong, though," Jessica adds.

We make our way to the hangar where our pelican awaits. Jacobs enters the pilots seat and the others load into the back. "Strap in, boys and girls. Prepping for take-off," Jacobs says from the cockpit. We sit down and secure our weapons, making sure they're within easy reach.

The Pelican shudders as the engines come on and soon the air changes as the vehicle takes off and leaves the safety of the ship.

"What's our mission?" I ask Zeke who just smiles. "We'll be splitting up into teams of two. Kia and Jessica will be our Rescue team while Arnold and 211 run distraction. Jacobs and Parkson are going to be breaking a way in while me and you cover their asses from above," he explains. Parkson looks to Kia and signs something with a concerned look. Kia nods and looks to Zeke. "What's our objective?" she asks. Zeke looks at Parkson with a strange gaze which quickly softens. "Prisoner rescue. We've got a few POW's that have been tracked down to an abandoned UNSC base that the Covenant have holed up in. Poor bastards have been in covie hands for a week now. We're hoping they're still alive," Zeke answers.

 **0822, April 17th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Planet Grovaar**

The air in the pelican changes once again as we enter the planet's atmosphere and drop down through the clouds. "ETA to LZ, four minutes," Jacobs says from the cockpit. "Copy that. Spartans, ready up," Zeke tells his team. We do the same and wait for the pelican to touch down.

Once it does, the ramp drops to reveal a large clearing. Towering trees ring the grassy area and give the forest an ominous look. A falcon sits nearby, untouched and ready to fight. It has two mounted gatlings and a chingun. A backpack and hacking equipment sits inside of the Falcon, waiting to be picked up. Arnold grabs the backpack and puts it on. Kia grabs the hacking gear and Zeke opens the cockpit's hatch. "You'll be going on foot. The base is marked on your HUD's. Jessica, Kia, go in silent. Arnold and 211 will be drawing the heaviest of the fire. Jacobs and Parkson, take the rear. Go in silent and hit them hard while they're distracted. We'll provide cover fire for the distraction team. This op shouldn't take long. But be prepared for complications," Zeke says, slinging his weapon once he finishes. "Our rides are downwind a few yards. You'll love what we have to use," Arnold tells 211. And even though he shows no reaction, I know 211 is getting excited. "Jackson, take the cockpit. I'll be on the guns," Zeke says and looks to the others. "Move out."

I jump into the Cockpit and lower myself into the seat. It's uncomfortable and odd because it's meant for much shorter soldiers. But I manage to fit me and my armor inside and close the hatch. "Wait for the distraction team to start the fire and we'll come in to fan the flames," Zeke says through the COM's. "Yes sir," I answer, slightly distracted as I start up the Falcon.

The whir of the blades and the roar of the engines is exhilirating. It means we're about to start something. Warfare at its finest.

I run a few tests before lifting off. I then bring the Falcon to bear towards the waypoint which rests directly on the UNSC base. "Keep it low. We don't want to be detected just yet," Zeke says. I look down to see us high above the treetops. I hadn't meant to fly this high, so I slowly descend to a lower height. The treetops bend and sway with the downwash and birds flee from their perches. "ETA to base, two minutes," 211 says through the COM's. He sounds excited and by the rumble through his helmet's feed, I can tell he's driving something big. "Copy that. We're right behind you," I tell him.

"Keep it low over the base once we start our approach. There'll be snipers and those bastards are better with range. Don't give it to them," Zeke instructs. "Burn the engines if you need to, but save it for emergencies. We don't want to be darting all over the place."

It's a long two minutes as we wait for 211 and Arnold to make it to the base. But once the time is finally up, Arnold comes over the COM's. "We're engaging now. Heavy reinforcements. More than we originally thought. Stay low on approach," Arnold says. "Copy that. We're on our way," I say and push the Falcon forwards.

We soon come into view of the base and there's lots of gunfire aimed towards the approaching roadway. I can clearly see a heavily armored hulk of a tank absorbing heavy fire. It sits in the open and deals fire from its shells on unsuspecting Covenant soldiers. Hiding behind the tank is a Warthog with a Gauss turret modification. Arnold drives the warthog around bullets and keeps it safe as 211 lays down the fire.

The base has a vehicle checkpoint and loading zone. There's a courtyard which is absolutely flooded with Covenant aliens. A huge blast door sits at the far end, mostly left unguarded. An outdoor garage lays in the left area just on the other side of an attaching bridge. Forklifts and both non-military and military vehicles sit parked inside of it. The main entrance is open and heavily guarded. I can just barely see the large forms of two Hunters who hover just inside of the base.

"Weapons free," Zeke says. The Falcon shudders as the Spartan opens fire with his mounted gatling gun. I turn the Falcon so he can fire easier and circle around the base. I look down to see the air filled with Covenant blood as our unexpected air assault hits home. But the Covenant quickly turn their sights to us and we begin to be pelted with plasma fire.

Zeke suddenly exclaims in pain and yells at me to turn the Falcon around. "Snipers!" he hisses. "Got my arm." I turn the Falcon so I can see and open fire with the triple pulse chingun. The Jackals duck into cover once I open fire, giving Zeke a chance to recover.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, flying a little higher to keep us safe. "Yeah. Get us back down there," Zeke answers. The chingun opens fire once again and shakes the Falcon over and over. "Blast team, what's your ETA?" Zeke says over the TEAMCOM. "Another few minutes. Our ride was busted. Damned wildlife got to it," Arnold says, sounding annoyed. "Copy that. Tell us when you're in place," Zeke says.

I'll have to admit, for a little while during the firefight I get tunnel vision and all other noises are blocked out. But to my luck, nothing happened during those five minutes of complete focus. Kia's voice snaps me out of my trance, though. "We're at the door. No heavy resistance and it doesn't look like we've been spotted," Kia says. "We see the blast team. They're getting into position," Jessica says.

"Sorry we were late," Arnold says. A chain of explosions rock the air and take out more than half of the resistance in the courtyard. Bodies fly and aliens panic. "but the cavalry has arrived."

There's a crackle through the TEAMCOM and a rushed voice comes through. "Zeke, we need backup. Kia is down and the blast doors are covered in those damn Drones," Jessica says. My heart stops once she mentions Kia and my gaze instantly snaps to their nametags which hover over their distant heads. "We're on our way. Stay hidden," I say before Zeke can say anything.

I pull the Falcon around to face their tags and stay high over the enemies before dropping down once we're close.

"Zeke, keep the drones off of us. I'll deal with the others," I say and unlock the chingun. The enemies whip around as the chingun begins tearing into their lines. The plasma cannons from the Hunters lance towards us but they're as slow as they are powerful and never manage to get close enough to do harm. One Hunter falls and the other follows closely after. The rest of the Elites and Jackals go the way of the Hunters and soon enough the walkway is clear of Drones and Covenant. "I'm back up and headed for the door. Jessica is right behind me. Walkway is clear for the moment," Kia reports. "Copy that. Contact us if you need backup," I say and turn to face the distraction team.

"They're starting to retreat back inside. We're gonna have to follow them in," Jacobs says. I watch as the last remaining hunter and a handful of Elites back into the base, motioning for the others to follow. "Jess, see if you can slow the blast doors. We don't want to get trapped in here," Jacobs says.

211 and Arnold stay outside while Parkson and Jacobs infiltrate the base. They throw explosives and keep heavy fire going, distracting the majority of the soldiers from the rescue team.

"Distraction team, pull out. We've got the prisoners and we're headed for the back exit," Jessica says over the TEAMCOM. "Copy that. Headed back to rendevouz point," Arnold says. 211 swivels the tank around and rolls it towards the exit, crushing the remains of turrets and blasted barricades. We linger for a few minutes over the main courtyard before turning to the huge blast doors.

Everything is going fine until Zeke curses and tells me to turn the Falcon around. "We've got bogies," he says. And indeed we do.

Two hulking Scarabs peak a mountain and set their sights on the UNSC base. One of their weapons primes with green energy and lances across the large stretch of land and nearly hits us. I have to pull sharply to the left to avoid the hit, but the force from the blast pulls us down and almost makes me lose control. "Rescue team, hurry it up! We've got two Scarabs closing in," Zeke says, almost yelling. "Scarabs? Those weren't anywhere on the map! What the hell are they doing here?" Arnold demands. "I have no fucking clue. But we need to pull out ASAP before they get here," Zeke says.

Kia, Jessica, and four of the six prisoners emerge from the base. They are running as fast as they can, but the UNSC prisoners are in bad shape. "I'm coming around. We'll pick you up," I say and begin our approach.

We are just a few yards from them when the second Scarab fires. Its laser lances towards us so fast that we don't have time to react.

It slams into our right wing and rocks us onto our sides. I struggle for control and manage to get us right-side-up for a few seconds before careening towards the ground. "Spartan, lock your armor!" Jacobs screams at me over the COM's. The last thing I see before we hit are the jagged rocks and the Scarabs priming to fire again.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**0955, April 17th, 2543 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/Planet Grovaar, near UNSC military base** _ **Strike Far**_

Gunfire snaps me awake and I instantly try to get to my feet. After a moment's struggle, I realize that the metal supports for the cockpit's hatch had collapsed and trapped me. Fortunately, the belt kept me from coming to serious harm but I am definitely hurt.

I key my COM and find it still alive. Fearing that my team would be in some kind of trouble, I try for instead Zeke who was with me when we crashed. "Zeke, sir. Are you there?" I call. There's a long moment of silence before a yellow dot on my radar comes to life. Zeke responds on the COM's sounding pained but alive. "Yeah...i'm here. I got thrown pretty damn far," he says. "I can't get out. The hatch got me trapped," I tell him. "Give me a second and I'll get you out," Zeke says.

I look around to try and pinpoint our crash location and find out that we had come down half a mile from the blast doors. My internal clock says that we haven't been out for long. But the obvious sounds of plasma fire tell that the Covenant have come back full force.

The Falcon rocks as Zeke grabs a hold of the crumpled hatch and rips it off after a brief moment of effort. The hatch flies a few feet before skidding to a stop in the dirt. The metal straps that had trapped me went with the mess and I pull myself out of the cockpit. Zeke stops me from moving any further when he spots blood on my leg. Upon further inspection, he finds that a broken console cut into my biolayer before the biofoam kicked in and cut me fairly deep. "Hold still," Zeke instructs as he pulls a biofoam canister and sprays it on the wound. It stings for a few seconds before soothing out. After the biofoam settles, I turn my gaze towards the nearby battle. I notice that the Covenant soldiers are pushing the others further into the forest and the two scarabs have been reduced to one.

"I tried raising the others. COM's are jammed. I think our ride out is still sitting in the clearing. If we can rendevous, we can get out," Zeke says. "We'll need to come up from behind. We don't want to get caught in the cross-fire," I say.

Zeke looks around, thinking, before turning around and climbing the hill directly behind us. I follow him up after putting away my Assault Rifle and grabbing a medkit.

But when I crest the steep hill, Zeke isn't in sight. It doesn't dawn on me until it's too late that something might be wrong.

An overcharged plasma shot sends me to my knees, and a boot throws me the rest of the way down. A furious sounding Elite holds his pistol to the back of my head and shouts its alien words like a drill instructor. My hand is pinned close to my chest, which means I can still grab for my knife. But are there any other contacts? Will I get killed before I can defend myself?

The Elite seems to be quickly losing patience as his foot presses harder and harder onto my back. I count to five before flexing my hand and grabbing the knife that sits on my chest. It slides easily out of its sheath and cuts into the Elite's ankle. It jerks its boot off in panic and I quickly gather my feet underneath me. The blue armored Elite doesn't look too experienced, like it's young or new. But that doesn't stop me from retrieving my gun and rolling away as it tries to stop me. I come up on one knee and empty the entire magazine and am satisfied when its shields break and it drops to the ground. Not risking anything, I make sure to double-tap before putting away my gun.

Zeke reappears shortly after. He had been waiting in a tree and I can tell that he let me kill the Elite, instead of helping. "Training excersize?" I ask him. I'm a little annoyed that he led me into that situation. But I keep it too myself. "Yeah. Sorry for the sudden engagement, but the timing was perfect," Zeke says. My rage is just about to boil over when we get a call through the main UNSC COM channel.

It's a loud burst of static that shuts both of us up. "...into heavy...forcements. Squad...down, requesting...respond." The voice belongs to Jessica from Zeta and she sounds rushed. Zeke grabs his weapon and turns his head to the sound of an explosion. "Come on," he says and takes off at a run.

The firefight is beginning to get louder, meaning we're drawing closer. But the sudden downwash from an overhead Phantom makes us nearly stop dead in our tracks.

The Covenant ship bears down on us and turns its plasma gun around and begins to fire. "Shit! Get down!" Zeke roars, throwing me onto the ground. His body slams into mine just as the Phantom opens fire. Its heavy rounds tear into the ground and disturb the pine needle blanket that had engulfed the ground. The heat from the blasts burn through my helmet and heat up my face. The barrage only lasts for a handful of seconds, but it felt like an hour. During the attack, I look up to see a dip in the ground. Roots from a nearby tree had stuck up out of the ground and disrupted the dirt, creating a shallow wall. I waste no time in grabbing Zeke and shoving him towards the temporary cover.

Once I drop down, I help the other Spartan down as well just as a plasma missile slams into the ground where he just was. The blast sends pine needles and dirt flying over our heads and clattering to the ground.

"It's coming back!" I yell, watching the shadow move closer to us. "Run!" Zeke roars, getting up and booking it away from the Phantom that threatens to kill us.

I can hear the trailing bullets burning trees and creating scarred holes right behind us. The Phantom is hot on our trail and shows no signs of giving up. Looking to the sky, I realize why it hasn't lost sight. We're in a relatively thin part of the forest. The opening between the trees is enough to see two Spartans fleeing for their lives. But the canopy is becoming thicker and thicker, and the light begins to dim as we head into the sparser sections.

"Watch it!" Zeke yells back all of a sudden. I look down in time to leap over a fallen tree and clear it. But I had overjudged the size of it and end up landing with my foot in between two roots. My ankle stops abruptly and brings my body crashing down. My chest slams into another root and knocks the wind out of me. I can only feel pain for a good fifteen seconds before I come back to my senses and pull myself off of the root.

My ankle is flaring with pain, and i'm pretty sure I sprained it. My chest hurts as well, but It's ignorable.

The hum of the Phantom's engines roars past me and keeps going. Zeke had stopped when he realized I fell and was making his way back towards me and kept casting wary glances skywards, watching for the nearby aircraft.

"You alright?" He asks me, crouching down. "No. Hurt my ankle," I say, removing my boot to examine my foot. There was internal bleeding for sure, there was a bruise already forming. But other than that, it was fine. I could still walk.

"If you're fine to walk, we need to get moving. That Phantom's going to call in for reinforcements soon," Zeke says. I take his offered arm and pull myself to my feet. After a few seconds of limping, I start walking "normally" again. Zeke turns away from me and puts two fingers to his helmet and begins listening to something. I can tell he's talking with the other Spartans by what he's saying. And soon enough he turns to me, looking pissed. "Rendevous point is a no-go. Bastards got to our bird first and sabatoged it," he says. "Jess called for evac and they've landed a few klicks from our location. We're still in the hot zone, though. So we'll need to hoof it for a while before we can be pinpointed."

I look up the steep grassy hill and resist the urge to groan. "Alright. Lets get moving."

It's a quiet climb to the rendevouz point. But this planet is truly beautiful. Most of the trees' leaves are a dark orange color with pale brown trunks. They look soft and spongy, but are as hard as a rock. The forest floor is riddled with hardened leaves and hidden roots that threaten to trip you into deep holes. The mixed sounds of the wind in the trees and the scattered wildlife would be peaceful if we weren't being hunted. The threat of the Covenant soldiers at our backs is breathing down our necks and keeps us walking fast. While our radars are still silent and nothing reaches our ears, we already know to keep our guard up just in case something unexpected happens.

As we are clearing another fallen tree, something darts out in front of us. Zeke is the first to train his gun on it and pull the trigger. He fires a small burst from his Battle Rifle before realizing it was just a small rabbit-like creature. It stops in its tracks and stares back at us with three large eyes. Its ears are trained forwards to us, listening to see if we're threats or not. Its small whiskers twitch before it suddenly springs off into the bushes. Zeke watches it leave before putting back down his weapon.

Another distant noise draws my attention and instantly puts me on alert. It wasn't a quiet noise, and Zeke heard it too. "The hell was that?" he hisses. Even though we aren't sure what it is, it makes us stay quiet. "Scarab?" I guess. Zeke pauses, listening, before shaking his head. Our questions are soon answered when a fairly large tree comes crashing down right behind us. It splinters the already fallen tree with great force, making the ground jump under our boots.

A rather large red dot springs to life on our radars and sits just behind a sparse growth of bushes. But before we're able to begin running, a bulky armored _creature_ throws its head and knocks down another tree.

The creature has to be fifteen feet tall and twenty feet wide. Its shoulders are large and bulky, and make it look much more intimidating. Its head is huge as well and heavily armored. Two bony horns protrude from either side of its skull, forming a handy double sided hammer. It has three eyes, six in total, sitting behind the hammers. They blinked at us at the creature breaks through the overgrowth and then gives a terrifying bellow before charging forwards.

We didn't need another warning. Both me and Zeke bolt for our lives. I'm not sure I've ever ran so fast before in my life. My feet are a blur as the creature makes earthquakes behind us. Its bellows are getting closer and closer and the unmistakable cracking of trees and undergrowth chases us as well.

"Keep running!" Zeke yells. "I have a plan." Zeke had been slightly ahead of me to my right. But all of a sudden he shimmers out of existence and I'm left alone at the mercy of the creature behind me. "This...Is NOT what...I signed up...for!" I say between breaths.

"Jackson, head right!" Zeke tells me after a few agonizingly long seconds of running. "What?!" I demand, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I knew it's a bad idea to question a superior officer, but that thing is right behind me waiting to trample me. To my right was an even thicker expanse of woods. It looks positively deadly. "Just do it!" Zeke yells.

I slow my pace and flatten myself against the slight slope. The creature hadn't expected the sudden stop and runs right passed me. I see its clubbed tail a split second before it slams into me and duck to avoid it. The tail crashes into the ground, disturbing wood and leaves. I then clamber up the hill and find my footing on the loose soil. After pausing for only a second, I begin running again.

But it seems like Zeke had either misjudged his idea, or had tricked me because the steep incline was too steep to run up. But the creature wasn't slowed.

While I was cursing Zeke's entire heritage for getting me into this situation, the ground suddenly drops out from underneath me into a steep hill. My feet come out and I quickly drop into a slide and make sure to avoid rolling. The armored creature hadn't expected the drop and I can hear it screeching in surprise and anger as it begins clumsily rolling down the hill.

The ground below is hard and covered in short grass. But it's flat and free of obstruction. "Jackson, get down!" Zeke yells through the COM.

I obey because I had just heard a Rocket Launcher discharge and the distinct whoosh of the missile is getting very close.

There's a split second of silence before the missile detonates and explodes the entire hillside. Debris rains down on me and i am pelted with dirt and rocks. But the raging beast had been silenced and its massive body is laying at the base of the hill, crumpled and very much dead.

My heart is still jack hammering when I pull myself up to me knees and stare dumbfoundedly at the creature that had just tried to kill us. It's massive body sports four legs and a hammer head with two huge tusks. Its six eyes are frozen open with phantom rage.

"Sorry about that, Jackson," Zeke says over a static-filled COM signal. "had to use you as bait there."

I shake my head and divert my attention from the beast and find Zeke standing atop the hill, looking down at me. "It's...alright, sir," I say, taking a breath to calm my heart. "Head to extraction, boys. You're holding up progress. Captain's called for evac of all UNSC personnel," Jessica tells us through the TEAMCOM. I look over to her waypoint and find the rest of my team with her, safe and sound. "Copy that, sir," I respond and begin walking across the stretch of land to the Pelican.

I reach the extraction point with time to spare and climb into the bird with the rest of my team. A team of Marines and the last remaining prisoners meet me and Zeke in the second Pelican. I realize that three of the four surviving prisoners were inside. And by the looks of the soldiers, it hadn't gone well. I cast a curious glance to Kia who just shakes her head. _We'll talk later._

"Good to have you back, squad leader," 211 says with a nod of his head. His left arm is in a sling and his gauntlet lays underneath the seat he's in. The gauntlet is destroyed, meaning that he had gotten attacked. "You all have some explaining to do," I tell them with only half of the seriousness I usually would. "With all due respect, sir, you can sure as hell wait," 211 says with a tired smile. "I'm with 211. Lets wait for the reports until we've had some rest," Kia says while stowing her Sniper Rifle. "Alright. I'll allow it," I say and take off my helmet after I sit down across from my team. "Dust off in three!" Jacobs calls from the cockpit. The others get seated as the Pelican's door closes and begins the lift-off sequence. There's a faint rumble as the engines come online and lift the bird into the air, propelling us far off of the planet's surface and into the atmosphere.

"Thanks for watching our backs down there," I say to Zeke who suddenly looks up, as if I had startled him. His abnormally grim expression turns into a friendly smile. "Yeah, no problem. Someone's got to look out for you Greenhorns." Jessica looks at Zeke with a strange gaze, but soon drops it once Zeke gives the slightest shakes of his head.

"Once we get back, after we've had some rest, drinks are on me," Arnold says with a grin. "I could use one. Or two," 211 says tiredly. "As long as Jackson doesn't get any. You know what happened last time. He could get court martialed this time," Kia says. It wasn't very funny, but we all share a well earned laugh. It feels good to finally be off of the field and back into safety. But we all know it won't last long. So we have to treasure it for as long as we can.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**0730, April 19th, 2544 [MILITARY CALENDAR/]Colonist Planet[OROVOR]**

Ever since we were augmented, we have been fighting Covenant aliens. We have never fired on a single human. Not even an insurrectionist. Sure we've defused situations between hostages and panicking civilians, but we've never killed a human being before.

It has been a solid year since our first mission with Fireteam Zeta, and a lot has changed. We've seen a lot more death and tragedy We've seen more planets fall, civilians lost, and fellow soldiers left behind to last a life time. But I know, if all goes well, we'll see a whole hell of a lot more.

We've been sent on a mission to a frontier planet to investigate a UNSC distress signal. It's the only time that we're not facing a direct Covenant threat. Fireteam Zeta has been sent along with us to ensure our safety. They're like our body guards.

Unfortunately, we weren't exactly told how long it would take. So when Jessica broke the news of our two week long travel, we weren't exactly pleased. But that grief was lifted when we were told that we would be taking a small vessel which could be manned by a small crew. It has a Shaw Fujikawa drive and multiple armaments as well as a few bunk rooms. But it doesn't come with any cryo tubes. So we can't just sleep the trip away. But ever since that time we woke up with the ship hijacked, I haven't been able to comfortably step into another tube. So it wasn't exactly disappointing when that was revealed to us.

We were dispatched in our ship from the UNSC Faithful after our very brief debriefing. Zeke says it's not normal to have so little information passed our way. But it's normal to us. Zeke tried to say something about it, but the officer just waved us out.

Seeing as how we're all used to each other already, we don't get on each others nerves or drive each other crazy. But it is still a long and boring trip. But also relaxing. We haven't had much rest recently because the war is kicking into high gear, putting us all on edge. We've been shipped out time and time again, not allowing for good and honest rest. In a way, I was glad for the constant run-and-gun. Because now I realize that being left alone to think for so long can get dangerous. But luckily Zeke and his team have come prepared for these things and know how to keep busy. Sparring, exercising, training. All good ways to distract yourself.

I practically don't notice when Arnold tells us that we're reaching the planet and to suit up.

Once we ready up, I go to the cockpit and look out through the window to see the huge planet looming up to meet us. A single space elevator reaches up out of the planet like a gigantic straw. Arnold says that there is minimal orbital activity, and that we haven't been seen yet. "Hopefully we won't be found. Colonies in the outer reaches tend to be...hostile towards the UNSC," Arnold says. "But isn't it a little, I don't know...dangerous to lie about our presence here? They might be angrier if they find out we're here unannounced," Kia says. "Trust me. We know how the outer colonies are. This is the best approach to a mission like this. In and out, don't let them know you're here," Arnold says.

The planet is beautiful. It's filled to the brim with forests and mountains. The atmosphere is a light blue color, much like Earth. But unlike earth, the air is thicker and the gravity is a little heavier. We have trained to operate even under different gravity situations, so it's not too difficult for us when we step foot onto the hard packed ground.

We had landed in one of the deserts. The rocks are a bright red color and the sand kicks up angrily as we leave the safety of our ship.

"Beacon is four klicks from our current position. Looks like it's in a crater. Must be where the ship crashed," Jessica says, consulting her tacpad. "Lets get going. The faster we find that beacon, the faster we can get the hell out of here," Zeke says and begins walking.

We've been on other planets before, sure. But no other planet has felt as hostile as this one. Even the sand beneath your boots feels as if it's trying to eat you alive. Swarms of gnat-like bugs come and go in giant clouds. They land on our arms and stick small needle probocis into our biolayer in attempts to suck our blood. No matter how much we swat at them, they always come back.

When we're only a mile from the beacon, a sudden dust storm is kicked up when the wind starts to blow. Our vision is obscured to only a few feet ahead of the lead Spartan. The sun is blotted out, draining all light. The mixture of the heat and sand makes it a very hard travel. But Fireteam Zeta isn't complaining, so we don't either.

We very suddenly find the crater when Zeke, who was in the lead, falls out of sight. Arnold, who was right behind him, curses as he slips and falls. Jessica reacts quick and grabs his arm, preventing him fall falling the rest of the way. "I found the beacon!" Zeke calls from below. His COM signal is distorted from the storm and filled with static. "We're heading down," Jessica says and disappears from sight as she slides down the crater.

Arnold and Jacobs follow her down and I wait until their tags have reached the bottom before approaching the edge.

It's a rocky dune filled with jagged edges and loose rocks. Sitting at the bottom of the crater is a pelican, destroyed and in ruins. "211, Kia, you two stay up here and keep an eye out. Parkson, you're with me," I say and sling my weapon across my back. I kick my feet out underneath me and slide down the crater. The loose rocks break free and come down with me, noisely knocking into the side of the pelican. Once we're down, we join the others who are checking the insides of the vehicle.

The troop bay is packed with sand which coats everything. But something feels wrong when I see that there isn't any signs of a body. Parkson taps my shoulder, looking distressed. He pulls me back out and points to the side of the Pelican. Once he sees that I don't see anything, he points again and outlines the entire pelican with his finger. He reaches down and touches the hull, then grabs a bullet from his pocket and shows it to me. And that's when it dawns on me. "Oh shit!" I gasp. "Kia, 211, get down here!" I roar over the COM's. But it's too late.

I hear two gunshots from far away and Kia and 211's signals suddenly flatline. "NO!" I yell. "What's wrong? What happened to the others?" Zeke asks, poking his head above the pelican. "Get down, now!" I yell. Parkson drops into the bay just as a Sniper round zooms past his head. The crack was barely audible but I heard it. I manage to drop down as well but the bullet nicks my helmet and drops my shields, breaking them with a shower of sparks.

My head is ringing once I get as far back into the pelican as I can. Zeke and Jacobs are at the front of the pelican, pressed as close to the side as they can get. Jessica and Arnolds are in the cockpit, working with something. Parkson has removed my helmet and is doing something near my ears. Once my hearing comes back, the sounds of gunfire reach me first. It's loud and very close. The rounds ping off of the outside of the hull and create a rythmic thrum.

"Engines are still offline. I'm rerouting power from the weapons," I hear Jessica say. "They've got us pinned. The bastards had an ambush!" Zeke snarls. He peeks out to fire a few rounds but pulls back when a bullet lodges itself in his chestplate. "Fucking hell!" he says angrily. "Jackson, pull yourself together. We need you up here," Arnolds says from the cockpit. Parkson gives me a little space to move as I shake my head and move to Arnolds.

"You have experience with old clunkers, right? Get this damned thing in the air. It still has emergency power, so it can at least get us out of this crater," Arnolds says, moving away from the consoles. I take my place in the seat and try to ignore the fact that the window is in a very vulnerable spot. "Emergency power is online...engines are good. Guidance..." I mutter while working the controls. "Auto guidance is shot. I'll have to work manual."

I flip a few switches and divert power from the landing lights and the non-existent landing gear to get the engines working. I am rewarded with a whine as the engines power up. "Guys, get away from the door," Jessica yells.

It's very hard to focus on the bird's spacing when the constant gunfire rains down on you like a nightmare. I know I have shields, but they're weak. And I'm very vulnerable here in this cockpit. But fortunately, I can drown out those thoughts and focus on the Pelican.

"Hold on to something," I call back. The Pelican's engines' whine grows to an angry roar as I gun them. The bird feels like it is stuck for a few moments, but the sand gives way with a jerk and lets us raise into the air. Someone has the brilliant idea of shooting at the cockpit, and their bullets shatter the right side window, making me duck for a few seconds. I direct the pelican to the left and ignore the overheating alarms and push it forwards.

It doesn't make it far before the engines fail and I am forced to land it.

"Zeta, get them from behind. Use your camo and sneak around. We'll distract them from here," I tell the others. "Good idea. Zeta, we need to move fast. They're already regrouping," Zeke says. "Move out!" Jessica calls.

Me and Parkson go out onto the ramp and crouch down, aiming down our sights, as Fireteam Zeta activates their camoflauge and nearly disappears from sight. It's not long before the attackers find us again and open fire. We're forced to the far side of the pelican for cover, risking an infiltration.

It seems like an eternity of trading fire until Zeta finally makes it behind. The gunfire quickly switches as they realize what had happened. Once that happens, we leave cover and slowly advance on the enemies, free firing on anything we see.

It's not long at all before the last of the enemies are fleeing, running as fast as they feet will carry them. But we let them leave and instead turn our attention to the fact Kia and 211 may be dead.

But once we reach the crater again, we don't find anything. No signs of them. "How the living hell did this happen?!" I demand. I'm furious. I got my teammates killed. What the hell kind of leader am I?! What was Hokai thinking by choosing me?

Parkson suddenly puts a hand on my shoulder and points to a spot on the ground. He crouches down and picks up a handful of sand. It slowly falls away until it leaves a pinkish splotch in his palm. "What is that?" I wonder. "Zeke, come here."

Zeke looks at Parkson's hand and touches the splotch. he looks at it for a second before shaking his head. His fingers curl into a fist and he looks over Parkson's shoulder. "TTR. The bastards had a sniper," Zeke says. I follow his gaze and find a small hill overlooking the area. The perfect place for a sniper to perch. "So help me if they hurt them. I'll kill every last one of them!" I say, gripping my weapon tighter. "We'll get them back, Jackson. We're not leaving until we do so," Zeke says, looking at me. "Good. Because I don't intend to leave," i say and head back for the pelican.

Zeke is explaining what happened to the others when I hear something in the cockpit. It was a slight scrape. Someone else might have passed it off as the old bird settling. But I knew different. I gesture for Parkson to stay put and crouch down. My feet make no noise and I dare breath only the slightest as I sneak up through the back and into the troop bay. My radar picks up a unidentified white dot, directly in the pilot's seat.

Once I'm behind the seat, I fly up and quickly grab the infiltrator by his throat and pick him up out of the seat. He gives a strangled cry as he goes flying into the wall. He hadn't even looked up before I place my boot over his chest and train my gun on him. "Where did you take them?!" I demand, staring hard into his terrified eyes. He says nothing so I discharge a few bullets right next to his head. And I'm pretty sure he just pissed himself. If I wasn't so mad, I would have even smiled.

He still doesn't talk and I'm about to execute him when Zeke walks in. "Hold on, Jackson," he says. My eyes don't leave the infiltrator when he steps up. "Jessica has a bit of training in interrogation. Give her an hour, she'll get what we need," Zeke says. The fear in the man's eyes only grows and I'm sure he's close to a heart attack.

"Wait!" he cries as Jessica enters the pelican. "I know where they were taken. Alpha base, Alpha base! It's our main base of operations." Jessica laughs and crosses her arms. "No counting for loyalty," she says. "I can take you there. It is only a few hour's walk from here," he says. "Give us the coordinates," I say. Once he does, I retrain my gun and pull the trigger. Fortunately for him, the death was instant.

"He didn't have to die, you know," Zeke says. "He could have been chipped. We might have been walking into another ambush with him leading," I say coldly. I then sling my gun over my back and leave the pelican. I don't want to hear his lecture. What I did was deliberate and I would have done it a hundred times over. I have no mercy for those who kidnap my teammates. They will all pay. I will kill them all.


	21. Chapter Twenty

**1253, April 19th, 2544 [MILITARY CALENDAR/]Colonist Planet[OROVOR]**

It hits me about an hour later that I had actually killed another human being. It doesn't affect me as hard as I thought it would have. But that's probably due to the fact that my teammates are still out there in the hands of the enemy, so I don't have time to focus on something as trivial as that. We need to figure out how to get into that base.

Jacobs and Jessica ran recon and reported back to us quickly after. They returned with an idea of the base. They had hijacked a COM signal and found out where the others are being kept. An interrogation was planned at 1300 hours, which was only in two hours. But fortunately, Jacobs spotted a way in. The south gate is lightly guarded and the armamaments aren't anything we can't handle. We can hijack a supply vehicle and make our way inside. Jessica and Arnolds are already in the progress of creating a signal jammer so the vehicle we hijack can't call for help. Jacobs also reported that they don't bother to check the storage bays, so the ones in the back would be safe as long as they keep their heads down. Unfortunately, me and Zeke who will be sitting up front, won't be able to wear our armor because that would be an absolute dead giveaway. But we only need to get passed the checkpoint to be able to infiltrate their base. From there, we'll do a basic breach and run, eliminate all of those who get in our way.

I hadn't realized I was running Hokai's blade across my gauntlet until Parkson gently grabbed my hand to make me stop. Once I look up at him, he looks from my gauntlet back to me. "Oh...sorry," I say, lowering my arm and sheathing the knife. Parkson just smiles and gets up to help the others with the jammer.

"Absentminded habits do more damage than they're worth," Zeke says. I look to my left to see him leaning against a tree, looking down at my scratched gauntlet. "Not that much. It's just metal," I say. Zeke removes his glove and shows me his palm. The pale skin is roughly scarred with scattered gouges from what looks like hours of scratching. "Habits are hard to break. Might not want to start," he says, replacing the glove. "I'll keep that in mind," I say. Zeke comes closer and looks hard at me. He stares long enough to make uncomfortable, forcing me to finally say something. "What? What is it?"

He just crosses his arms and looks into the distance, in the general direction of the enemy's base. "Keep your focus during this mission, Spartan. Your teammates may be in the enemy's hands, but you are not alone," Zeke says. "Translation, don't be an idiot and get us killed," Kia adds. "Keep your head in the game. You lost your temper back in the Pelican, and that's all I'm allowing you. I'm your superior officer. And even though I never do, I can pull rank. Would you really risk a court martial over something as stupid as temper?" Zeke says seriously. Zeke's face suddenly becomes stern and melts into a tight lipped frown once he reads my stubborn expression. He grabs me by the shoulder, forcing me to look at him as he lowers his face closer to mine. His voice drops to a whisper and I am actually intimidated by him. "Jackson, you took an oath when you were augmented. 'loyalty over treason'. You promised your mentor, your teacher, that you would never break that oath. But if you lose your head and go postal on these locals, then you will be breaking that oath and I can't save you from the consequences." Zeke backs off, his expression still stern. "So I am begging you. For god's sake, keep a level head. No matter what you see or hear. I can't have you getting discharged, Jackson." There's a tone of desperation in his voice that makes me think there's something more going on. Something that I can't even begin to think about. But before I can say anything about it, Jacobs announces that the jammer is done.

Me and Zeke get up and go over to them. We find them holding a small round device that is very roughly made. "Once we get into position, we'll activate it and make our move. It activates instantly so we don't have to worry about timing," Jacobs says. "Lets get down to the road. I'll assign positions once we're there," Zeke says.

We get down to a dusty dirt road flanked on both sides by neglected grass which tower high over the surface of the road. On one side is a ditch, on the other is a small hill. Both will be good camoflauge.

"Jacobs, Arnold, Jessica, take the ditch. Jackson, Parkson, you're with me on the hill. Once I give the signal, I'll go in first and get the driver out. Jacobs, follow up and get the passenger. Jackson, Jessica, Parkson, you secure the rear. Do not shoot unless you need to defend. I want as few casualties as we can. It doesn't look good to the UNSC to slaughter locals," Zeke says. Jacobs clips a smoke grenade to the front of his belt and secures his weapons. "Tends to piss everyone else off, as well," Jacobs adds.

Once we're all ready, we clear out to our assigned sides and await the transport vehicle.

It seems like forever that we stay crouched in the grass, hardly breathing, barely moving. None of us dare do anything to give the other away.

But finally I hear the vibrations from the vehicle. At first I think it might be something smaller, maybe a Warthog. But as it gets closer I can hear the straining of the engine as it pulls the hill. "Heads up!" Zeke hisses, gathering his feet under him in one swift movement.

"Arnold, once they're within a few feet, activate the jammer," Zeke whispers. "Copy that," Arnold says, all sarcasm and former humor completely gone from his voice. It's weird how Zeta gets once on a serious op. One moment, they're all laughs and jokes, and the next they're as tense as a cable. I guess we just have more to learn.

The vehicle gets closer and closer and it soon gets close enough that I can hear the crunching of its wheels against the rock. And all of a sudden, our radars go blank as the jammer is activated.

Everything goes into action instantly. Zeke appears from his hiding place, weapon up. The vehicle screeches to a stop as Jacobs joins him, both yelling loudly for them to get out.

I get to my feet and approach the rear of the transport. Its canvas cover conceals those inside, making me tense. I nod to Parkson who stands behind the canvas and Jessica stands on the other side. Parkson opens the flap and we stick our guns inside. Five terrified soldiers stare back at us, but a sixth had gotten up with a gun.

His finger was just about to pull the trigger when the sound of a knife whistles through the air and a combat knife lodges itself in his femur, making him scream and fall down hard, clutching the blade. Parkson appears, scanning the inside. He points his gun at them and jerks his chin outside. They don't move. "Get out, get out!" I yell, bringing my weapon up. Jessica grabs their arms and pins each to the ground which she then proceeds in tying each soldier's wrists together. "Please-" a soldier begins to beg, but Jessica slams her boot down onto his head. "Shut up!" She snaps. "When the UNSC finds out-" another soldier says, a sneer in his voice. But Jessica turns to him and presses the barrel of her gun against his head. That shuts him up.

Zeke appears from the front of the vehicle and tosses me a set of clothing. "Strip and get into that," he says, already beginning to remove his own armor. I hesitiate and hold the wrinkled and dirty clothing up. "Don't think about it. Just do it," Zeke says, removing his boots.

I try to ignore the smell as I remove my armor and put it into the back of the vehicle and put on the other soldier's clothing. It reeks of sweat and feces. I'm not sure these guys washed that much...

"Stay quiet and keep your heads down. We'll tell you once we're on. If everything goes south, I give you the permission to go weapons-free," Zeke says from the driver's side of the vehicle. "Copy that," Arnold says and jumps into the back of the transport. "What about them?" I ask, looking back at the soldiers. Jessica walks back around and quickly levels her magnum. Eight shots ring out in quick succession and eight bodies hit the floor. I try not to think about it as I round the car and enter the passenger's seat.

Once I close the door, Zeke starts the engines and soon enough we're on our way. "No witnesses," Zeke says soon after leaving. He sounds regretful. "It's a cruel war." I just focus on the cloud of dirt we leave behind instead of the men we had just murdered.


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

**1340, April 18th, 2544 [MILITARY CALENDAR/]Colonist Planet[OROVOR]**

Arnolds was right. The checkpoint security is pathetic. There's a single watchtower with two guards who lazily come out to meet us. They are armed with weak pistols that look like they might malfunction if shot. I'm assuming those who piss off their CO get posted here.

We drive up in a cloud of dust and stop with squealing brakes. "Afternoon, men. What're you haulin'?" the checkpoint guard asks, using a heavy accent. "Armaments for the 14th and 15th brigades," Zeke says, throwing his voice to sound more like the driver he had killed. The guard that had stayed in the watchtower just waves us through and just like that, we had infiltrated the enemies base.

"How did you know that?" I ask Zeke curiously, looking at him. He holds up a piece of paper without taking his eyes off of the road. "Shipping manifest. These guys really are careless. I wouldn't be surprised if their base doesn't have a security system," he answers.

After a ten minute drive, the base is finally in sight. It looms up out of the desert sand like a strange mirage. The grounds are fairly busy, personnel running back and forth to their destinations. The base itself is one big gray block, sitting like a chunky turtle shell out of the sand.

We fall in line on the tarmac and follow the directional arrows to an empty loading dock. While there were other vehicles patrolling, none of them had shown interest in us.

Zeke shuts off the engine and I hop out after him. As I am closing my door, Zeke has begun closing the bay's door which seems impossibly heavy. It clangs shut with a metallic thud, sending a blast of dust inwards and stinging my eyes. I taste sand for a few moments before gathering spit and expelling it from my mouth.

Zeke makes sure we're secure before banging on the side of the truck. I watch the others as they unload from the back. Parkson looks relieved to be back on the ground, and the others just look alert.

"Arnold, Jacobs, you two stay here and keep our ride safe. Jessica, Parkson, Jackson, you're with me. If anybody sees us, shoot first and ask questions later. But try to keep it quiet. Use your silencers," Zeke says, tossing each of us silencer modifications for our magnums. "That goes for you two as well. Stay discreet and go for the knockout blow. The UNSC has their rep to keep, after all."

After we attach our silencers, we go in through the single door on the far side of the dark room. It opens silently, revealing a brightly lit corridor. It reeks of antiseptic, and the hum of a cleaning bot reaches my ears. But other than that, it's completely silent. "We'll take the vents if nessecary," Zeke whispers, keeping his gun at the ready. "Jessica, we'll need a map of this place. Find a terminal."

The first room we come across is a storage room, which makes sense seeing as how we're near the loading bays. The next few rooms are large storage areas as well. They are all filled with metal and wooden boxes.

But after a few minute's search, Jessica stops at a doorway and jerks her chin at Zeke who gestures for us to stay put. Parkson and I stay where we are and press ourselves against the wall, keeping our ears strained for any signs of detection.

Zeke and Jessica disappear inside for what seems like ages. But just as I am beginning to worry, the two reappear and Jessica holds up her tacpad, indicating she has the information. Zeke motions us forward and we're off again. But this time we move with purpose.

It seems like we're moving into the heart of the facility. The bright hallways never seem to end, the empty storage rooms seem to be all that this building is made up of. We think that until we finally reach the bunk rooms.

The sounds of a TV reaches us first, loud and blaring. It's startling after such a long silence. We round a corner and find one of the soldiers lounging against a wall, talking into a communicator. He seems bored and very much unaware of the four Spartans right behind him. I didn't even know that a sleeper hold could be so silent until Zeke took the soldier out and gently laid him down. He shut off the communicator and kept us moving. But now we had to move faster because sooner or later, someone would find the body and the alarm would be raised.

Even though most of the doors to the barrack rooms were open, none of the soldiers inside ever heard or saw us. I'm not sure they would have even reacted if they had. If I was just a little cockier, I would say there's no need for caution. But I don't dare underestimate our enemy.

Four soldiers come out of nowhere. One moment, the hallway in front of us is empty, the next there is a small group making their way down our hall. They don't notice us immediately, but when they do, they freeze. Time seems to stop as we stare at each other. They have young faces that look as if they should still be in school. They were still older than us, sure but still...

Zeke breaks the silence by bringing up his pistol and falling to one knee. As soon as he drops, he fires off a single round. The choked sound of the silencer can barely be heard as the bullet finds its target in his victim's head. Zeke's aim is true and he had placed the bullet right between his eyes. Three more choked gunshots sound off and three other bodies hit the floor.

"So much for no killing," Jessica growls, grabbing the four guards' ID cards. "We need to hurry," Zeke says and practically begins running.

Much to our luck, we don't run into anyone else on our way to the interrogation rooms. The area is, however, heavily guarded. There are two heavy metal doors locked with an ID scanner, with five guards on the inside watching through the single glass window that sits in an indented hallway. Their attention isn't on us which gives us the element of surprise. "Breach and clear," Zeke tells us. "Jessica, scan the card and get the door open. Jackson, Parkson, as soon as you get a shot open fire. Go for the kill. We can't have noise."

It's a little regretful how this will turn out. Five human beings dead all because they were doing their jobs...but I can't think like that. If they had the chance, they would probably kill us, even if we were unarmed.

Jessica holds up one of the cards and the reader beeps and the lock clanks open. Time slows as Jessica kicks the door open and Parkson and I open fire.

It isn't noisy, it isn't messy. Neither of us miss a single shot, they all find their targets. The situation lasted only a few seconds, the time it took to pull the trigger five times. And just like that, the area was clear.

While Jessica and Zeke secured the room, my gaze was pulled to the large glass window in front of us. And sitting inside, under a large bright light, are my two teammates.

At that moment, oh god how I wanted to just start shooting and not stop. I wanted to get them out of there without bothering to stop at the door. I don't know if I can ever forget that moment, seeing the two of them laying helpless on the floor as two goons with shock batons had their way. It hurt me horribly to see them cowering behind their charred armor. The terror in their eyes...the shaking of their limbs...It sent me into a blind rage.

Fortunately, Parkson had seen it too and quickly got the door open before I broke my fists on the glass. I didn't even bother to hesitate before pistol whipping the guard that was on 211. He didn't even turn around before he fell. The satisfying crack as the gun broke his jaw almost made me smile. The second guard fell to the ground in horror and crawled into a corner, pleading for his life. I didn't spare him, either.

It was a rush...killing another human being. Killing an alien was different. They weren't the same species as you, they didn't even look the same. But killing a human? It's...different. Some might react with disgust, or even embarrassment. But me? No...it was fun. But then I remembered that my teammates were here.

Setting my gun down, I run to their sides. Kia is in a bad way and 211 is just blank. "I'm here. It's me, Jackson," I say, looking into their eyes. Something in 211 snaps back together and he gives the biggest grin. Despite the blood on his face and body, he wraps his arms around me and gives a hearty laugh. "You bastard! I thought you had left us for dead," he cries. "Hell no. You're getting out," I say. Kia just looks at me, suspicion and a strange look in her eye. She looks at the guards' bodies and back to me. Her mind is working, I can see it. And her expression turns from thankful to worried. But soon clears as Parkson helps her up.

"Clear?" I call to the other two. "Clear!" Jessica reports. "Good, you found them. Now lets get the hell out of here before our rescue is cut short," Zeke says and turns to leave. "Hold up, these two are hurt. We'll need to move slower if they're going to walk," Jessica says suddenly, looking the two over. "We'll be fine," 211 says stubbornly. But as soon as he takes a step, his leg buckles and he ends up on the floor. "Bullshit," I saw and pick him up and carry him between my arms. I nod to parkson who does the same with Kia. 211 looks embarrassed and won't look me in the eye. But Kia just looks amused, both at 211's reaction and the situation in general. "Alright. Lets get going," Zeke says and leads the way back out.

Nothing of interest happens on our way out. But once we get back to the loading bay? Now that's a whole 'nother situation.

Zeke gets the door and stops as soon as he gets onto the catwalk. Looking over 211's armor, my stomach drops. At least fifteen guns are trained on us, each in orderly formation. Jacobs and Arnold are pushed forwards, their hands behind their head. "I blame Jacobs!" Arnold says. "Me? Who's the one who didn't keep the door shut?" Jacobs says. "You're really going to blame me?! Might I remind you about Orton III?" Arnold yells. The two begin fighting in a sort of comical way. They begin butting chests since they can't use their arms. Two of the ones with guns break rank and try to pull them apart. And it just begins to dawn on me what they're doing...a distraction technique. These guys are the best kind of genius.

"Catch!" Jessica says and tosses a grenade-like object towards the gunners. Being the cowardly selves they are, they immideatly break ranks. But the grenade was only a dud. Jacobs and Arnold are up and launch themselves in front of our escape vehicle as Zeke throws the real grenade, a powerful flashbang. We shield our eyes as the flashbang detonates. The startled yells and screams of the enemies are pleasing, but we have to react fast.

I practically throw 211 into the back of the truck and Parkson does the same with Kia. Zeke jumps into the drivers seat and curses as he almost catches a bullet. I get into the passenger's seat and slam the door. Zeke doesn't even wait to make sure everyone's in before slamming his foot down on the pedal and reversing hard out of the bay. Apparently someone hadn't gotten out of the way soon enough and there's a hard thump as a body is ran over, then a second as he goes under the front tires.

Zeke jerks the wheel and the truck wheels around, going up on two wheels for a moment before slamming back down. As soon as the wheels are down, he guns the engine and roars out of there.

At this point, the entire base is on alert. Even though most of the soldiers hadn't gotten outside yet, two were already out and closing the gate. It sat on wheels and was closing fast. But Zeke didn't care. He rammed right through it, making the entire truck bounce violently. I hold on tightly as the back tires clear the gate and we leave the tarmac onto the dirt road.

We don't slow down for a very long time, not until Zeke decides it's time for some off-roading. We fly over the sand and dead shrubs until I'm sure we've gone over five miles. The base is long out of our sights when Zeke finally stops. The dust we had kicked up catches up to us and I taste sand again.

The truck bounces as the Spartans in the back get out. We go to meet them and 211 is sitting on the edge, grinning like an idiot. "That. Was. Awesome!" he laughs. "Lets never do it again," Kia says, looking sick. The back of the truck is riddled with bullets and the tarp protecting the back is torn. "It was pretty close back there," Arnold says, holding up his gauntlet so we can see a bullet lodged in it. "You guys were awesome," I say, remembering their little distraction. "What? That? That was nothing! A little on-the-spot entertainment for our oh-so gracious hosts," Jacobs says sarcastically. "You should have seen them a few years ago. Those Elites were so confused!" Jessica laughs. " _HUH? What are those demons doing? Fun? I have never heard of it!_ " Arnold says, hunching his back and legs and making his voice deeper to mimic an Elite. I have to admit, I laughed at it. And so did Parkson and 211. But Kia...Kia is unusually silent. She keeps staring at me and giving me a suspicious look. Zeke is the only other one who notices it and casts me a curious glance. I just shake my head and turn towards the horizon.

"If we want to be back before dusk, we need to get moving," I say. "I have the ship marked, so no trouble finding it," Jessica says. Jacobs goes back into the truck and retrieves the other weapons. He tosses each Spartan their weapon and nods to Parkson. "Blow it when we're a mile out," Jacobs says. "We're destroying the truck?" I ask curiously. Zeke nods as he returns from the front. "Might be tracked, can't take the chance. We'll have to hoof it the rest of the way," he says. "You'll come to find that, while on the field, you're going to be doing _a lot_ of walking," Arnold says, throwing his weapon over his shoulder and following Jacobs out into the sand. "Get used to it, meat. Whining will get you nowhere," Jessica says with a teasing tone.

Our walk back to the ship isn't anything special. We walk, rest, walk some more, rest, etc. You would think at this point I would be used to the dry, boring, MRE's. But no. No I haven't. I still nearly vomit when I eat the "tomatoes".

Fortunately for us, the ship went untouched. No signs of tampering or intrusions. It starts up nicely and doesn't report any failures. So soon, we're flying out of the canyon and high into the quickly darkening sky.

"See you in the morning, I'm going sleep," Arnold says, setting his weapon down and flopping like a dead fish onto one of the bunks. He doesn't even bother to take off his armor or make his bed. Within a few minutes, he's out like a light. Jacobs takes off his SPI armor, which is worn and bullet marked, and sets it aside. He soon leaves for the cockpit, taking his turn flying. Arnold said that if they made it out alive, Jacobs was flying home. Being the good sport that he is, Jacobs kept to that promise.

The rest of us shuck our armor and fall more or less clothed into bed. A meal could wait. But for now, we're spending the first few hours of our flight back asleep.


	23. Chapter TwentyTwo

**1512, May 27th, 2544 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ UNSC Faithful, orbiting planet Kanteo III**

At this point in our lives, my team and I are used to restless nights and mission after mission with no rest in between. So that's why it was such a huge surprise when Captain Jameson gives us an entire month off of our duties. We are to stay aboard the ship, of course, but other than that we are free to do as we please.

Fireteam Zeta is sent out on a recon mission, so unfortunately they won't be seeing us through our R&R. That's pretty disappointing.

I hadn't realized that the last ODST team was rotated out and replaced by another team. I only realize this when I see Charles Rex and his brother in the gym. They look almost the same as when we saw them over a year ago, but more aged. It's a pleasant surprise to see them.

Just as I am about to head out, Charles spots me and calls me over. "There's our Damsel-in-Distress!" he says, throwing an arm over my shoulders. I look at his arm curiously and think about carefully shrugging it off but decide otherwise. "Hey, Charles. How's it been?" 211 asks, smiling. "The usual. Killing Covies, taking names," he says. "I heard you fought your first innies a few weeks ago. How was it?" Austin asks. His eyes have a strange gleam to them and I have to fight to keep my focus.

"It was different," I say guardedly. I remember the rush of watching the two guards die, the lust for blood, and I shift uncomfortably. Charles' expression falls but he quickly recovers. "Not easy killing another human for the first time. But Covenant? Those bastards deserve it!" Charles says. "I heard someone's getting a promotion," Austin adds, looking at the two of us. I raise an eyebrow curiously and look to 211 who just shrugs. "I haven't heard anything," I say. Charles sets down his weights and gives a laugh. "After your work on Thrug and the rescue of your teammates? Why shouldn't you? The Brass was impressed, Spartan. I heard you're going straight to Sergeant," he says. My expression falls and I shake my head. Maybe I deserve a promotion for other services, but Thrug? We barely fought there...

"No. You must have heard something wrong. We didn't really do much on Thrug. If anything, we failed our mission," I say heavily, my gaze falling to the ground. "Nonsense," Charles says with sudden heat. "You guys did amazingly. You stopped an entire convoy that could have lost us everyone on the planet. You assassinated an Elite General, for crying out loud. That alone is worth a promotion! I say you deserve something higher than Sergeant." Charles' praise takes me by surprise. I hadn't expected it from an ODST of all people. I've come to learn that ODST's and Spartans don't see eye-to-eye. Plus Charles is of much higher in rank than me, and hearing praise from a superior officer is always surprising.

"Now look at what you did. You shocked the poor kid," Austin says with a grin. Charles gives one of his hearty laughs and slaps me on the back. "Snap out of it, Jackson! If your mouth falls any further, you'll swallow a spider," he says. I close my mouth and manage to pull myself back together and get composed. "Thank you, sir," I say simply.

As usual, we aren't told anything about the promotion until we are called by our CO to go to the conference room. There he meets us with a stern look and I'm thinking that this isn't going to be good.

"Jackson-332, Parkson,-333, Kia-334, and Spartan 211. For your service on Planet Thrug and all missions since then, I hereby promote you to the rank of Sergeant," he says. His stern expression softens and he produces four Sergeant bars and pins them to each of our chests. Since we had heard it from Charles first, it's not too much of a surprise. But still...seeing those bars fills me with pride. And by looking at each of my teammates, I can tell that I'm not the only one. "Congratulations, Spartans."

Our versions of celebrating include falling back to our bunks and laughing in shock. "We're Sergeants now!" 211 says, sounding like the little kid he used to be. "No more 'step aside, private'," Kia says, a huge grin on her face. Parkson is enjoying it as well. He sits and stares at the sergeant bar in his hands and watches us with the same overjoyed grin.

And watching them, I realize just how young we still are. The youngest Marine i've ever seen is only eighteen. They're older than us, yet we're Sergeants. I myself am a squad leader. I'm fifteen. Fifteen, and I've already had two years of service in the military, plus ten years spent training. Two years and we've been injured, captured, nearly killed, shot at, and I've even killed another human being. Granted, I'm not sure how other kids our age actually live. But I'm damn sure it's not like this. I've seen the way we're watched and the looks of pity and disgust we get from the other Soldiers. At first I thought it was because of how we acted. Too stiff compared to the others. Maybe how we dressed? But now...I realize it's because of our age.

I'm jerked out of my thoughts once our door opens and four ODST's step through. They each wear sleeveless shirts that show off their scars and tattoos. They look tough, even intimidating. One of them has an Energy Sword scar running across the side of his head and the hair around that area hadn't grown back. The other has a large plasma burn scar covering the entire right side of his face. His skin is twisted and malformed and his lip droops awkwardly.

Behind the first two are more familiar faces, Charles and Austin Rex. Charles' features are bright as he enters the room. "What, no beer? Where's the booze?" Charles asks, spreading his arms in a gesture of disbelief. Realizing they're superior officers, each of us snap to our feet instinctively and salute them. "They're so green you could put 'em in a salad!" the ODST with the burned face says with a laugh. "Oh shut it, George," Charles says, shoving the ODST aside. "At ease, Spartans. It is your celebration after all." The ODST's stand respectively near the doorway, but Charles motions us outside. I start towards the door and jerk my chin outside, gesturing for my team to follow.

"We're going to show you how to celebrate. ODST style!" the one named George says, stepping ahead of us. "Booze, clubs, bars. Your first day as a Sergeant is going to _rock_!" the ODST with the head scar says. I stop walking and look at them with a furrowed brow. "Captain Jameson hasen't give us leave," I say firmly. I don't dare disobey the Captain. If I've learned anything from Hokai, it's to respect your commander.

But Charles holds up a set of cards. "It's for a 'military' reason. You guys need credit cards if you're going to be Soldiers," he says. "As long as we stay inside the capitol city, we're golden!" George says.

And so we left the Faithful and took a Pelican to the massive space station orbiting Kanteo III. Inside of the space station is a massive hub of activity. Loads of transport coming and going from the connecting elevator, people going about their business. But what takes me by surprise was the AI that greeted us once we enter the station.

On a waist high pedestal, a hologram suddenly projects itself. It's a brown color and stands at about four feet. The Avatar is a young man dressed in a tuxedo with a black fedora. "Welcome to Kanteo. I am Antero, this space station's AI. I can assist you with anything you need while aboard this humble station," the AI says. Its voice is even and smooth, as if it were someone at a fancy dress party. "We need some credit cards for these four. Do we do that here or on the planet?" Charles asks, stepping forward to look at the AI. The AI turns to look at him and gives him a smile. "Military offices are located on main street of Kanteo's capitol. You may acquire credit cards and more there," it tells him. "Ah, perfect! Thanks for the help, Antero," Charles says and begins walking down the hallway. Antero nods politely to him before disappearing.

"Was that an AI?" I ask Charles, picking up my pace a little to walk side-by-side with him. "Yep. Antero mans the space station here. Handles incoming and outgoing cargo, including people. Very polite guy, doesn't anger easily," Charles says. The ODST with the head scar laughs from behind us. "You would know! I dare you to piss him off again, Charles. He'll send you out the airlock, I'll bet on it."

I look at Charles curiously but he turns around and begins walking backwards while talking. "Shove it up your rear-entrance, Jaff!" he says. "Save the fighting for when we're drunk!" George calls from behind. "There will be plenty of it."

"You're just afraid I'll whup your ass again," Jaff, the ODST with the head scar, taunts. "Oh yeah? Fifty dollars that you'll go down before you can even get a swing out," Charles shoots back. "You're on! By the end of the night, you'll be called 'one hitter quitter'," Jaff says.

The lights in the section of the tunnel we're in suddenly flickers and an audible groaning sound from the hull can be heard. "No bickering on my station, please," Artero says politely. "Or I might take up on mister Janer Jaff's offer."

The capitol city is even more busy than the space station. Cars fill the streets, almost outnumbering the sheer amount of people flooding the sidewalks and stores. I'm glad we have Charles and his team to help us through, because I'm not sure we would have ever been able to navigate through all of this.

As we drop down through the busy traffic, I realize that there are massive advertisements filling the upper halves of the buildings. They flash different products of beauty, beverages, and sports along with many other strange things. Once we finally reach the UNSC offices, I am more than glad to be getting out of it all.

The offices are fairly quiet and filled with soldiers, most of whom are in their Battle Dress Uniforms. None of them carry weapons, however. It unerves me to think that so many soldiers will be unarmed if there would be an enemy attack...but nevermind those thoughts. We're here to celebrate.

It takes about an hour but Charles finally comes back with four credit cards assigned to each of our names. "They're linked with your military bank account. The money you spend on this is taken from your military money. As long as you're not an idiot, you won't spend it all," Charles says and hands us the cards.

We take a personal transport that George rents out and begin "cruising" the streets. The ODST's point out every store and attraction that they recognize, which is quite a few. I find it hard to focus on them with all of the people rushing about. But I decide to play along. "How is it you know what so much stuff is here?" I ask the ODST's after a small pause in their chatter. "Austin and I grew up here. We visit every time we have leave," Charles answers. George, the one who is driving, turns his head slightly to look at Jaff, the passenger. "We're looking for Taprock, right?" he asks. Jaff looks up and nods. "Yeah. Should be another mile on the right," he answers.

We come to a four way intersection which seems nicely choreographed. That is until an impatient driver decides to run the light and comes within inches of ramming right into the side of our car. George jerks the wheel (he had been driving manually instead of letting the auto-pilot take over) and the car lurches out of the other's way. "You fuckin' idiot!" Jaff roars, sticking his head out of the window. The driver of the car that had almost hit us straightens his car out and flip us the bird before going on his way. "I swear, I would almost prefer Scorpion drivers over civilian ones," Jaff grumbles.

A few minutes later, a large sign advertising "SHAMROCK TAPHOUSE. OPEN 24/7. COME IN FOR A DRINK!" appears and George exclaims in triumph. "Finally! We can drink our hearts out. Might even be literal," he says.

As it turns out, the bar is actually fairly quiet. There are sections for smokers and non-smokers. The smoking area is quite a bit louder than the non-smoking one. "Oh, hell yes! They brought the girls back," Jaff says, pumping a fist. "Keep my tab open but keep the bill under three hundred. You know where I'll be." Jaff heads into the noisy room after giving Charles his card. I peek into where he went and my cheeks instantly become hot once I see the scantily clad women on the stage. Charles must have noticed me because he gives a laugh and steers me towards the bar. "There will come a time, Jackson, that you'll want a piece of that. But for now, lets just keep it on the mild side," he says.

We come to a low bar rung with stools and a marble countertop. Drinks sit on the rear shelf and on the counter itself. My team joins me on the stools after Charles pats them. A blaring TV sits behind us and spurts out local news that I have no clue about. I try not to pay attention to everyone around me and just on Charles who is talking to the bartender. Charles hands the man George's card and the bartender produces six drinks. He slides the glasses over to each of us and goes about his business. "Tonight, you become real men!" Charles says, lifting his glass and taking a long swig.

I consider what happened last time I had a drink, and decide against another. But my team doesn't. 211 downs the glass quickly and burps loudly. I think about reprimanding him but shrug it off as this is our day off. No regulations, no rules. We're just a couple of soldiers out celebrating.

211 goes off to join Jaff doing hell-knows-what and Charles stays with Parkson, Kia, and I. Charles begins talking to us about his adventures since we last met him and about his team. As it turns out, he was on Thrug as well. His team got stranded after the UNSC pulled out because their SOIV's were shot off-course right before the admiral gave the pull-out order. They survived for a week before the UNSC was able to come back for them.

We tell him about our adventures throughout our past year. What we had seen and done. During my recollection, I notice that a strange looking soldier had sat next to Kia and kept eyeing her. I recognize him as an Army Soldier. But his head keeps slumping and his eyes seem glazed over, unfocused. Kia was ignoring him for the most part and just keeps watching the TV, intruguied by a military story that had come on.

211 returns without Jaff and looks as happy as ever. It had been about an hour they were gone. "Where did you go?" I ask 211 curiously. "We found George in one of the back rooms and...well..." 211's blush grew deeper. "Lets just say it involved a lady." I was about to question him more when I heard the soldier next to Kia speak up.

"So...you come here often?" he asks. Kia slowly looks at him, unsure as to how to respond. "Um...no. This is my first time," she says slowly. "Well, let me recommend the Hornet 69. It's...fantastic," the soldier says, drawing out his last words. I've always made an effort to try and respect my teammate's privacy and free-will. But this creep is obviously making her uncomfortable.

Just as I was thinking of a way to politely get rid of him, 211 turns to face him, his expression sour. "Why don't you lay off?" he growls. But his words are slurred and I think he might have gotten...intoxicated. "I'll do what I damn want! What are you? Her _boyfriend_?" the Army Soldier says angrily. 211's temper flares and his stool goes skittering across the ground as he stands up, his fingers balling into fists. "No. I'm her teammate, you stupid Army puke," 211 says. "and I'm _telling_ you to leave her alone!"

The soldier gets up as well and the two get inches from each other's face. I tense up, waiting for the fight that I know is coming. "Why don't you fuckin' make me?!" the soldier demands. He brings up his hands and shoves 211. Being 211 and having a short temper, my teammate instantly comes back with a punch.

Had 211 been sober, the hit might have broken his jaw. But 211's form was off and the hit only makes the soldier reel backwards, groaning. Upon seeing the commotion, five other Army soldiers approach 211, and they look just as drunk.

"Hey, what the hell is going on over here?" one of the burlier soldiers asks, his pale cheeks flushed a bright red. The one that 211 hit stands up and wipes the blood off of his cheek. "The bastard hit me!" he yells. "And I'll do it again!" 211 slurs.

I stand up and hold up my hands to try and break the tension. "It was just a misunderstanding. I'm sure 211 didn't really mean it," I say. Wrong choice of words. "I meant it! And I'll knock you out if you try that again," 211 says. "The hell that you will! You got a lucky hit. It won't happen again," the first Army soldier says.

I don't really know who went first, but before I knew it, I was being swarmed by six drunk and angry soldiers.

211 could have easily been overtaken in his intoxicated state, so I stood up for him. Time slows as the Army men charge us. I assess each soldier and instantly come up with a plan of attack. And like the highly trained killing machine I am, I fight them like they're enemies who are trying to kill us.

The first soldier goes down when I grab his arm and swipe my leg under his. I keep him down with a swift punch to his temporal bone. One that had been going for 211 finds his arm wrenched up behind his back and a boot in his spine. The last three quickly turn on me and try to come at me all at once. Had they been just a little bit more sober, they would have overtaken me. But the alchohol in their systems make them clumsy and un-coordinated. Their fists miss me by several inches and their boots don't get anywhere near me. I take out two birds with one stone by making two of the Army men run into each other when they try a clumsy pincer maneuver. And the last backs away, frightened.

He suddenly sobers up once he realizes what I am. "Freak!" he hisses. "Kicked your ass," 211 mutters, glaring at the last soldier. "I won't hurt you if you don't engage," I promise the Army man. He takes the chance and runs straight out of the bar and nearly falls over himself.

Just then, a tall man with a CO's bars appears. He glares at the men on the floor, then at me. "Who's your Commanding Officer?" He growls. "Not your business," I say guardedly. Technically, I am. Whenever we're out of the ship, I take on the roll of Commanding Officer. But I wasn't about to tell this guy that. "Your chain's going to hear about this if you don't tell me," the officer threatens. I don't respond well to threats, so I turn and glare into his eyes. "Go ahead," I snarl. And with that, the Officer turns on his heel and storms out of the bar, practically dragging the last five soldiers with him.

Charles returns a while later and cocks an eyebrow at me upon seeing 211. "What's wrong with him?" he asks. "He's pretty drunk. This is his first time drinking," I explain. "Really? Probably shouldn't have given him the strongest drink, then..." Charles says innocently. I shake my head with a chuckle and look towards the smoking room and find Jaff and George walking back towards us, laughing heartily. "You ready to hit the road?" Charles asks them. "Maybe," George says. "What's it to you?!" Jaff smacks him in the back of the head. "Shut it, buttbait. Lets get going. I've got a very sensual date with my bed," Jaff says.

I look around for Austin but don't find him. "Where's your brother?" I ask Charles. "Probably back in the car. He doesn't like bars much," Charles answers.

And with that, we leave the bar behind and rent out a hotel room for the night. There's no way the drunk ones would make it back to the Faithful in one piece.

211, Jaff, George, and Parkson pass out the instant we get into the rooms. Parkson had drank quite a bit along with the others but only reacted by getting very tired instead of violent or something like that. Austin hadn't drank at all and stayed up with me and Charles watching TV. Kia had gotten almost as drunk as 211 and went down pretty quick after she had gotten something to eat.

And so ends our first day of celebration. I hadn't enjoyed it as much as the others obviously did. But I guess that's why 211 calls me a killjoy.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

**1203, May 30th, 2544 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ UNSC Faithful**

Watching 211 wake up with a hangover was somewhat amusing. It sounded like he was dying. It didn't help that as soon as everyone was up, we shipped back to the Faithful. Kia teased the hell out of him while recovering from her own hangover.

I was met with a nice surprise when I went to train in the sparring rings. I was waiting to be matched up with another Spartan when a familiar soldier appeared. He was alone, surprisingly, and looked a little more scarred than when I last saw him.

"Zeke!" I call, waving him over. "I heard your team got their butts handed to them down on Kanteo by some Army drones," Zeke says with a smile. He removes his protective bandages and reapplies them while we talk. The movements are thoughtless and automatic, showing that he's done this many times before. "No. I guess the story got messed up somewhere. 211 was wasted and got into a fight. I helped him out," I say, trying to clarify before the news got too far. "Is that so? I guess someone wanted you to look bad," Zeke says. The Commander I "disobeyed" is probably the one spreading the lie since he didn't have the guts to report to our CO. We saw the same army men on our way off of the planet. Other than a few dirty looks, they left us alone. But they looked pretty trashed, so I'm guessing they didn't want to fight.

I look over the sparring ring and watch two Spartans go at it. The fight only lasts for three minutes and the two Spartans stop sparring, which leaves a momentary opening.

Zeke gets up, clenching and unclenching his fists. He pushes an ODST aside who had grabbed the railing and looks at me. "You coming?" he asks. A dozen heads turn towards me and I suddenly feel frozen. "Um..." I manage. An ODST grabs me roughly by the arm and shoves me towards the ring. Before I can turn angrily on him, Zeke grabs me by the arm and hauls me up.

"We're not fighting to kill. Try to remember that, eh?" Zeke says. I wasn't exactly ready to fight him, but I see him readying for a punch and know that I don't have a choice.

Time slows as his fist flies out and aims for my jaw. I quickly side-step just as he showed me and grab his forearm. I shove his arm down and bring up my elbow while taking a step back into him. He doesn't have time to dodge before my elbow connects with the side of his face, making him stagger back. "Ow!" he exclaims, holding his jaw. I step into a more ready stance and let myself loosen up. "You going to take that?!" someone yells from the small crowd. Zeke rolls out his shoulders and he suddenly becomes more serious. I have a feeling he was just testing me. Now...with that look in his eyes? I think he's going to knock me out, given the chance.

It happens so suddenly that I am almost knocked off balance. Zeke launches into a series of rabbit punches that strike me in vital (and not to mention painful) areas. My stomach and arms take quite the beating before I can recover and start defending myself. Once he goes in for a heavier hit, I side-step and place my hand on his back and shove him forwards. He stumbles and I take the chance to punch him in the shoulder. The hit sends him tumbling to the floor where he quickly rolls away from me and back to his feet. The jeers of the other soldiers fade away as we watch each other, timing our movements, acting and reacting accordingly. It becomes a real-time fight. All past promises forgotten, all remorse left behind. The hits are hard and relentless.

Once Zeke goes in for a leg swipe I steel one of my legs and hop up on the other. I then bring the one up in the air down on his ribcage. But I hadn't accounted for his timing and he brings his arm up and around and grabs my leg with a vice grip. He then twists and nearly dislocates my kneecap while bringing me down. I land on my face and only barely dodge the fist that slams into the mat just beside me. While ignoring the pain in my leg, I roll away and get back to my feet. But Zeke is right behind me and knocks me back down. This time he gets on top of me and gets me pinned. But he hadn't secured my right leg in time and I manage to get it under his chest and launch him off. He had anchored his weight and doesn't go as far as I wanted, but far enough to be able to get to my knees.

Zeke is about to launch into another attack when a voice distracts both of us. "Hey! This is a sparring arena, not a death arena. Get your asses off of the mat!"

I take this as a direct order from a superior officer and quickly scramble off of the sparring ring. Despite the throbbing sensation in my temple and the blood dripping from my head, I snap a salute to Charles who had entered with his team. "Now we have to clean the stupid thing. Next time you want to abuse your pupil, do it somewhere else!" Jaff says. Zeke comes down from the ring and removes the protective bandages. His expression is sour as he does so. "I had him," Zeke says irritably. "You kidding me? He had you in the bag. Another minute and you would have been out cold in the infirmary," Charles says with a grin. Zeke just growls and shoves the ODST's aside and leaves the room. I watch him go, worrying that I upset him in some way. Heaven forbid I lose my only friend over a sparring match...

"Ah, don't worry about it Jackson. He gets like that when he loses," Charles says. George produces a towel and throws it at me. "Get yourself cleaned up before you bleed out. I'm not going to be responsible for a dead S-II," the ODST says.

After a short trip to the infirmary and a short meal, I go to find the others who are lounging in the observatory room.

We happen to be near a large gas giant that has an asteroid field orbiting it. It's quite beautiful. The system has three gas giants and four smaller planets, two of which are life sustainable. We're passing through this area for routine repairs that couldn't be done during slipspace, which gives both the pilots and the soldiers time to relax. Slipspace can be a little nausiating at times.

Kia is reading some modern fashion book and Parkson is near the window, looking outside. 211, however, is trading blows with another Spartan. Just as I enter, 211 turns to look at me and Arnold jabs him in the jaw, making him stumble back and growl in annoyance. "I see you've found Zeta," I say to the others with a warm smile. "And I see you've found Zeke's temper," Jessica says, noting my bruises and bandages. "Temper? Did something go wrong?" I ask, suddenly worrying that someone was hurt or killed. "Not really. We got pinned by some innies and took a few rockets to our bird's tail. Came down over a desert. The militia chased us down and almost had us," Jessica says. "Yeah, until the Pelican went up," Jacobs says and mimicks an explosion with his hands. " _Whoosh!_ I've never seen anything more beautiful."

Arnold takes 211 down by a leg sweep and walks off, dusting his hands. "I set the whole thing to blow. When they came looking for us, they never saw the charges," he says with a chuckle, clearly proud of his work. "You'd think with a show like that Zeke would be happy," I say and walk over to join the others. "You know him. He's still mulling over the rockets. Talking about 'no honor in losing to an ambush'," Arnold says, deepening his voice to mock his squad leader. Just then, Zeke walks in and his expression sours once again. "You're right. I should have expected them to be there, and I got us shot down," he says bitterly. He goes to the nearby bar and snatches up a drink and guzzles it. "Lighten up, oh brave squad leader. I think you got enough payback with that airstrike," Jacobs says. "You should have seen them run. Like rabbits they ran!" Jessica says with a laugh. Zeke just grunts and turns his back to us. "He'll come around. Just give him a few hours," Arnold says right before he leaves the room. Jessica and Jacobs follow, chatting on their way out.

"I'm going to take a shower if you need me," Kia says and sets down the fashion book. She leaves and Parkson follows her, waving goodbye. 211 follows silently after glancing back at us.

It takes me a moment to realize that Zeke had been gathering up the guts to talk to me. But once I realize this, I go sit next to him. I find him hunched over a glass of whiskey. His hand grips the bottle tightly, almost whitening his knuckles. I can tell he's fighting something back. Maybe...what? Tears?

"Have you read the field report?" He asks me, voice barely above a whisper. This question takes me aback. I'm only a sergeant and I haven't been given clearance to access those kinds of files. "No, sir," I answer hesitantly. "There's a reason I went so hard on you in the ring. I took my anger out on you," Zeke says. There's no apology in his words, only fact. Zeke takes out a holo-pad from his jacket and slides it to me.

I power it on and a wall of words scrolls up. Against the blue hue of the holopad, the text is easy to read.

 **FRM: Major Zeke-087**

 **TO: Captain Anglri Jameson**

 **Launched off from the UNSC Faithful at 0700 hours. Touched down on Planet Hugri at 0745 hours. Patrol scans for 1.2 hours. Nothing out of ordinary. Rations lost to native predatory bird due to pilot error. Continued for twenty-six day recon/patrol. [READ ATTACHMENT] Found and followed Insurrectionist convoy. RPG homing missiles deployed. Shot down over Gjaralhi desert. Arnold-019 planted and charged explosives to inner hull of Pelican. Retreated distance and detonated charges. Fell back into Insurrectionist ambush. Arnold-019 mortally injured in firefight. Wounds sustained:[FIELD REPORT] 3 broken ribs, multiple scorch wounds, permanant[?] damage to left scapula muscle. Emergency lifted to UNSC Faithful. Requested immideate medical transfer to planet Reach.**

My breath catches in my throat upon finishing the report. Being a fellow Squad leader, I know exactly how Zeke feels. Why he is so angry. He believes that it's his fault that Arnold was hurt. He thinks that he was the one that lead them into the ambush. But clearly Arnold doesn't think so.

"I put them all in danger. I could have gotten them killed," Zeke hisses. "And for what?!" Zeke's temper flares and the bottle of whiskey goes flying across the bar and slams into the wall. The glass doesn't break but the open bottle sloshes onto the carpet. "Some cheap thrills? I'm not a kid anymore, damn it! I've been in the service for nine years now. Nine! Once I left the forest behind, I swore that i'd grow up." Zeke lets out a bitter laugh and shakes his head. "What an idiot I was. I thought that I'd be a good soldier. A good little boy who did as he was told. But what did I prove? That kids shouldn't be in the military. That's what I proved. We aren't fit for service. This shit isn't fair!" Zeke's voice rises to a shout and I make sure to keep a little alert for sudden outbursts. "We never had lives worth talking about. We never got to go to school, we never had friends, we never even learned how to ride a bike! Who do they think they are? GOD?! I highly doubt it!"

Zeke suddenly sinks back into his seat, the fight drained out of him. "What kind of life did I leave, though? No parents...no family...I left a world behind because I had to." He suddenly turns to me and I can barely stand the sadness in his eyes. "They took her from me. My grandma. She was the only one left that mattered. The only one that gave a shit about me. The bastards didn't even give her a chance. What kind of sick twisted mind would gun down an innocent bystander? Insurrectionists. That's who! Their fight was with the UNSC, not us! They looted every house on the street. Killed everyone they set their eyes on because of some stupid rations quarrel." Zeke chuckles and the sadness in his eyes ebbs away. "I got my revenge. It was years later, but I got it. I tracked them down. Every single Insurrectionist that had held her down and executed her. I didn't torture them, of course. I'm better than that. But I did make sure that they knew the little bastard boy got his revenge."

The Spartan's face is a maelstrom of emotions that range from anger to sadness. "Now you know what I've been through. I'm an S-III, always have been and always will be. We aren't like you II's. Most of us were orphans. Refugees given a chance for revenge. Arnold had his family taken away by Jackals looking for salvage near his home world. Ransacked his little town. Jessy's planet was glassed. She was one of the outer colonies to be found after Harvest. I still remember the pictures...and as for Jacobs? He has a special reason to hate the Innies. When the bastards fled Madrigal, not all of them hid in the Rubble. They looked for a new place to call home. Found his planet. His parents didn't want to give up their farm so the innies took it by force. Jacobs was in their barn when he heard the gunshots. Knew it was trouble so he ran. Winded up in the woods for a few days before the UNSC somehow found him. Offered him a place in the new Spartan program."

Zeke lets his head fall onto the counter and grunts roughly. "Drank too much again. Damn alochol," he says. I hadn't expected to learn this much about them, so I'm taken aback by it all. But as I'm about to say something, Zeke raises his hand, cutting me off. "Don't say anything. You listened, which is better than opening your mouth. I don't give a shit if you tell your team about what I said. Just don't go running your mouth to anyone else," Zeke says. "This is personal business. I trust you, Jackson. Don't make me a fool."

That night, I go to sleep with a lot of things going around in my head. There's no doubt that I've gained a new level of respect for our friends. But it also gets me thinking about the Spartan-II's and Spartan-III's. I have yet to meet another Spartan-II, but if what the others say is true, the Spartan-II program was an unfair abomination.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

**1659, September 11th, 2547 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/Colonist planet[TUNGSTEN II], local water treatment plant**

An explosion to my right nearly sends me to my knees and an explosion to my left almost deafens me. Radio chatter from the nearby Marines drowns out any intelligent thought. Instinct kicks in and I dart behind a rock and press my back against it. The surface heats up and starts burning me as the Hunter's plasma beam begins melting it. Pink needles slam into the dirt just inches from my left boot and I am forced to run into the open. My chest burns as an Elite's Beam Rifle tears into my shields and nearly drains them before I can get back into cover. The whine of a nearby plasma grenade forces me to crouch down and shield my helmet as the explosion completely drains my shields and showers me with dirt and pebbles.

"211, where are you? We're getting nailed down here. Covies got the beach pinned," I yell into my helmet's COM. The chingun fire from an overhead vehicle answers my question. The roar of the Falcon's engines is almost unbearable as it sweeps in low over our heads, kicking up dirt and causing a mess. Its afterburners kick off abruptly and the bird quickly rises high into the air. Secondary fire from the turrets opens up and the fire from the towering structure quickly ceases. The tinkling of the shell casings is rythmatic once the spent ammo falls nearby.

"Paller, you're green to move up," I say once the Hunter's final cries fade away. "Copy that," the Marine replies. Fifteen ODST's charge up the hill, moving quickly before the overhead fire opens up again. I come up behind them and drop down to one knee and scope in through my Magnum to give them covering fire. I spend an entire magazine before having to duck back into cover to reload. "We're up, Jackson," Paller reports. Through the feed I can hear the drone of someone providing fire with an SMG. "Got it. I'll make my way around," I say and cut the channel.

Taking a deep breath, I take a smoke grenade and throw it on top of the small dirt hill in front of me. I count to five before going around the smoke. Confusion fire peppers the area around and inside of the smoke. But once they see me, the fire becomes more focused. Once again my shields are drained and the sting of plasma digs hard into my arms and legs. Had the way up been more barren, I'm not entirely sure I'd have made it. But there was enough cover by the rocks and abandoned barricades that I was able to successfully make it into cover beneath the low ceiling of the overhead walkways.

Glancing to my left, I see that one end of the building stretches far into the nearby ocean. The roar of the hydroelectric engines nearly drowns out the firefight happening above me. But I know my objective lays further within the facility, near its heart. Hiding myself beneath the staircase, I decide to contact the rest of my team.

"211, Kia, report," I say. It takes a few minutes for them to reply, which worries me at first. "Jackal Snipers and AA fire nearly brought us down. We're coming around for a wide sweep. We'll meet you inside," 211 replies. There are alarms blaring inside of the Falcon's cockpit which is a little worrying. "Set down and hoof it up if you need to," I say.

"Jessy and I are almost to the water plant. Arnold is still with 211 and Jacobs is on the east approach with Zeke and the Marines. They're under heavy fire from rooftop snipers. The Grunts aren't making it easy for them, either. Damn suiciders everywhere," Kia says. "Keep your heads up and keep an eye out for stealth Elites. I'm headed inside with Paller. Meet me at the rendevous," I tell them and cut the channel again.

I quickly head up the stairs and find the ODST's fighting in a large room filled with what looks like three very large generators and double leveled platforms which ring the rear side of the room.

Two ODST's lay slumped against the near wall, one of them moving and the other not. A scorch mark paints the doorway and a few of the ODST's look shaken. "Suicide Grunt. Got us before we could stop it," Paller says, not even bothering to turn around from his firefight. "What's the situation?" I ask and peek through the door from the right side and nearly get struck by a needle, followed by a quick Plasma volley from the Elites. "Not good," he answers. "Jackals have us pinned from above. The Elites won't even let us through the door."

I peek around again and spot a shallow set wall that sits near to the left side staircase. I pull back inside before I'm blasted again and look at the remaining ODST's.

Out of the original twenty Marines, only fifteen survived the initial charge. And now that they had gotten inside, thirteen were left. But that would be plenty to cover me. "Paller," I call. The ODST squad leader pulls back and looks at me quizically. "Sir?" he asks. "I need you and your men to give me covering fire. I'll take out the Snipers and as soon as I give the all-clear, you focus on the Elites. I'll stay behind and take them out," I say and put my DMR onto my back. "Seems a little ballsy," Paller says, looking me up and down. "I just need you to cover me. If my team were here, you wouldn't need to. But I have to trust you," I tell him. "You're insane, Spartan," Paller says, shaking his head. But the grin on his face tells me he likes it. "But we can give you that cover."

It only takes a second to get from the door to the barricade-like wall. But it feels like minutes when you are hammered by enemy fire. From the time that I sprint out of the doorway and slide into cover, my shields had been dropped and I had taken a few hits to my side.

My back slams into the wall and I take a few calming breaths as I zoom back into real-time. The sound of the ODST's and the Covenant soldiers' firefight is deafening. And if I wasn't as well trained, it would be panicking. But fortunately I'm a soldier.

I take my Magnum from my hip and click the safety off. I then carefully swivel out of cover and aim for the overhead lights. One by one I shoot them out until the entire room is plunged into darkness. The cries from both the ODST's and the Covenant tell that none of them were expecting that.

As soon as the lights go out, I spring into action. Carefully and quietly I move up the left spiral staircase and step right behind a line of Grunts. I can hear their labored breathing and the hiss of their methane and smell their terrible stench. I'll only have a few seconds to get to the Snipers, but fortunately I chose the right staircase. It took me up to the second level where the Jackals are nested.

I can hear their worried chattering, muffled slightly by their helmets, and the clack of their nails as I draw nearer. I stop and crouch about twenty feet away. All five of the sharpshooters are in my sights, along the hallway. Just as I ready my pistol, I hear an Elite a floor below shout out several orders. They're reordering. I need to move.

I turn on my nightvision and the deep shadows of the path ahead are removed and bathed in an ominous green. The Jackals are highlighted in a faint outline, giving me an easy target. "Lights out," I whisper and pull the trigger five times.

Five bodies drop, one after the other. After my own silence, the shots almost startle me. I am about to give the all-clear when I see the sixth Jackal. I hadn't seen it, I had messed up.

It turns the barrel of its gun to face me and hisses. I bring my own gun up at the same time and pull the trigger once. The bullet flies and embeds itself into the Jackal's head. It dies noisely and I know I'm in trouble because it had just given me away.

"What's going on up there, Jackson? The Elites are moving to the second level. We don't have a shot. Whatever you're planning, you had better do it quick," Paller says over the COM's. After checking the bodies, I begin moving around the far side of the room. "Situation compromised. I missed one. Pull back and get your men to safety," I respond. "Shit. Get your ass out of there, Spartan. I don't want another dead soldier on my hands," Paller says after a second of silence. "You won't have to worry, sir," I say and cut the channel.

I can hear the roaring challenges of the Elites as they climb the stairs, and soon the thump of their feet on the metal floor as they race their way towards me. I take a grenade and prime it before throwing it in a low arch down the hallway. Just as I see the split mandibles of the Elites, the grenade explodes and gives me a temporary means of escape.

Turning on my heel, I take off at a full-out sprint and just make it to the end of the hallway before a glowing plasma grenade sails over my head. I can feel its heat as it safely clears me and lands somewhere near the back door.

I had seen a door on my way in but it was on the first floor which had been filled with Grunts and Elites. But now the Grunts are dead and the Elites are clumsily following me from overhead. I have a clear shot to the door. But I will have to act quick, and I will be completely screwed if the door is locked.

Once my boots hit the floor, I duck behind the support beams and run behind the cover of the whining machinery. The floor beneath me is slick with alien blood and I find my footing less than satisfactory in most places. I accidentally kick a plasma pistol and it skitters a few feet before bouncing off a wall and coming to a stop. I do the same to a Plasma Rifle, but that almost trips me.

Once I reach the door I waste no time in reaching for the handle and pulling. But my heart sinks once the door jerks and doesn't open. Had the Elites not been chasing me, I could have broken it open. But in the few seconds it would have taken, they would have killed me.

So instead, I take a breath and turn around. The red dots on my radar stop moving and pulse ominously. Without my night vision, I would hardly be able to see the stealthy aliens. But the glow of their weapons illuminate them easily, harshly outlining their grinning faces.

"So. You think you can kill me?" I ask, offering a challenge. I drop my pistol and quickly grab the Energy Sword hilt on my thigh. The Elites snarl as the blade flashes on, the focused energy sparking noisely. It's been a while since I've used it. I had left it on the Faithful because I hadn't felt I was ready to use it. But since I have no one to teach me, I figured it was high time to start dragging it around. It's proved useful before. So why not now? Plus hearing the reactions of those Elites is worth bringing it out.

"Are you going to let this thing stop you? Oh come on," I say, my eyes darting to each alien. There's a long silence where I worry about how many ways they're thinking of killing me. But finally, an Elite dressed in maroon armor steps forwards. A Zealot, I realize.

He curls up his fist and his arm recoils slightly as a single bladed energy sword springs to life out of the top of his gauntlet. His mandibles split open and he snarls a challenge. "Lets dance," I say and make the first move.

My sword lashes out and aims for the Elite's arm. He gracefully steps aside and slams his elbow into my back. The blow sends me rolling forwards and nearly into the ring of waiting aliens. The Zealot roars once again but doesn't charge me as he waits for me to get to my feet. "One point to you," I say once I steady myself. The Zealot watches intensely as I plan my next attack. But I guess he thinks something through before me because he suddenly lunges forwards.

The blade lances through my shields and nicks the corner of my chestplate, searing it and cutting into the metal. I jump back, gritting my teeth against the heat from his attack. I've never been in a sword fight before and I'm extremely clumsy and I'm doubting if I'll even be able to survive.

The Elite comes for me once again but I meet his blade with my own. The two swords clash with a small show of electric sparks. I force his arm back with my sword and finally find my chance to deal some damage. Once he staggers back, I take no chances and stab my blade right for his chest. With a mighty roar, the Zealot grabs my arm and shoves it away from him. The sword only glances off of his shoulder but it drives right through his shields and into his skin. I can hear the flesh sizzling as I pull away.

It's a tense stand-off as the Zealot finally realizes that I'm an equal match. Something changes in his stance. It becomes more serious than before. I think he really wants to kill me now.

I'm not sure how long we fight for. It might have only been a few minutes. But it felt like an hour. We traded blows and we were both injured more than once. And in the end, I finally cornered the Zealot. I had slashed into his gauntlet and cut it free of his arm. The energy blade failed and he was left defenceless.

After realizing he was defeated, the Elite lowers his arms and gives a low grunt. And at that moment, when our eyes meet, I realize that these creatures aren't just mindless machines waiting to kill you. They're actual sentient beings with traditions, religions, and feelings. But I forget all of that once I realize that this is war.

It's over in a second. And I find myself standing over the dead body of another Elite on another planet and in another deadly situation that has to be dealt with.

I turn to the other Elites and my eyes flash to the door. They are obviously still in shock because they don't react nearly fast enough to stop me from grabbing a hold of that door handle and ripping it from its frame. Once they start firing, their shots slam harmlessly into the metal door instead of my armor.

I back into the next room and I then turn around and take in my surroundings. It's a big open room with a domed roof and what looks like a mainframe sitting near the middle stretching from floor to cieling. Consoles ring the back of the room and they blink rythmatically.

But the bad part? There are at least twenty aliens who look up. And they aren't happy.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five

**1724, September 11th, 2547 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/Colonist planet[TUNGSTEN II], local water treatment plant**

One thought runs through my mind once I realize my situation. And it's very primitive. _Survival_.

Fortunately, most of the enemies are situated near the mainframe and the rear consoles so I have time to bring up the door/shield just as an overcharged plasma shot races towards me and makes my arms recoil against my chest.

They open fire relentlessly and soon enough, my shield is melted and I'm unable to use it further. I then take out my pistol and empty the mag and slam another in. I have to commend myself for holding out as long as I did. I have no cover and nothing to help me fight. I only lasted as long as my pistol did. But once those Elites swarmed me, it was over.

It was close-combat from the time I ran out of bullets. They never gave me time to reach for my Energy Sword, though.

Three Elites in blue armor surround me and they begin fighting, but not daring to use their bullets. One swipes his Plasma pistol and smacks me in the helmet. While the blow is brutal, and I see stars, I don't go down. Instead I return the hit with a fist to his gut. I had gathered a small amount of momentum and I'm delighted to see purple alien blood spurt out of its mouth. My instincts scream at me to turn around and once I do, I can only duck as an arm goes sailing over my head. I take a step back to steady myself but my heel hits the wall.

"You want a fight? I'll kill all of you!" I roar defiantly. But at this point it's the dying words of a dead Spartan. There's no way I can fight off ten Elites. Nevermind the rest of the Covenant aliens standing behind them. I can only go out with a bang like the soldier I am.

I grab the neck of an Elite and slam its head into the ground. I jump over its back and jam my foot under the mouth of another. My fists and feet are a blur as I go into a whirlwind of attacks. But no matter how hard I fight, I am overwhelmed. An elite in Orange armor and a horned helmet breaks through the crowd. I hadn't expected him and he grabs me by the throat. His fingers are like a vice as he throws me onto the ground and holds me there. Saliva drips from his mandibles as he snarls viciously. I am trying to free myself but my limbs only flail helplessly.

You know...I had imagined my death to be a lot more heroic than this. Cornered and taken down in a single room without even my team to watch me go. How stupid.

You never think it will happen like it does. You might imagine yourself being blown up in a heoric flash of glory, or go down saluting in a pelican. But in the end, you're on the ground being suffocated by a merciless enemy with an iron grip. It's not fair.

My vision had just blacked out when I vaguely hear an order being snapped. Something smacks into the arm holding me and air floods into my lungs, reinflating them painfully. I suck in the oxygen like the lifeline it is.

The crowd of Elites around me suddenly disperses and now I can hear a nearby voice sounding very angry and coming closer. As I look towards it, I realize it's another Elite in Maroon armor. A Zealot. It wields an Energy Sword and is standing and glaring at the other Elites. My temporary savior turns to me and grabs my chestplate and pulls me to my feet.

I can only watch in confused silence as the newcomer lectures the others in their foreign language. By the way the aliens hang their heads and avoid his gaze, I'm assuming they did something bad. But I can't imagine what that is since they're trained to hate my guts.

Suddenly, the Elite stops talking and turns to me. His Energy Sword is still alive and, by the way he turns, I know that he isn't being kind. "Heretic," the Elite growls. "You are a heretic. Doomed by the Prophets because you _defiled_ sacred Forerunner relics. I should have let them kill you. But that in itself would be heresy. The Prophets have requested your capture, demon. And I will not be the one to defy them."

His almost flawless english shocks the living hell out of me, and his words are just plain confusing. I had heard of their leaders, or "Prophets", and they just seemed like a bunch of stupid, old, and disgusting aliens. And I had heard of the Forerunners, precursors to the universe. But they had disappeared many years ago. Why the hell would these morons _worship_ them?

But I don't have much time to dwell on it as the Elite orders a Jackal to bring him something. The Jackal produces energy cuffs which bind my wrists tightly. "Nice and comfortable," I growl.

The aliens shove me to the back of the room behind the mainframe. I am issued a handful of guards, but they are only Grunts. I find that a little strange but shrug it off as ignorance. "Hey, split-face. What are you waiting for?" I ask the Elite that had "rescued" me. He turns to me, striding in his weird gait. He then kicks me in the guts and I fall over, grunting and trying to not cough. "You do not speak unless spoken to, Demon!" he snarls. "Ah... You should see someone about that temper," I say, getting back up to my knees.

While we wait for whatever we are waiting for, I assess the situation. The open hole where the door used to be is guarded by several Jackals holding Needle Rifles and Needlers. The Zealot is walking around the room and talking to the different Elites. The Grunts sit around lazily, not paying much attention to anything but themselves.

At one point, my private COM channel crackles to life and a voice floods through. I have to turn it down to avoid being noticed. "...are you...there?" The voice coming through the static sounds worried yet professional. "This is Jackson-332," I whisper. The signal becomes clearer once I respond. "Jackson! Where the hell are you? Paller said you had disappeared after the lights went out," Arnold asks. "I've been captured by the Covenant in the control room. I can't talk for long but-" I'm cut off as soon as the Zealot realizes what had been going on. He had snuck up on me and suddenly kicks me in the back, making he launch forwards and land on my stomach. "Be quiet!" he snaps. "Shove it up...where the sun...don't shine," I grunt as I pull myself back to my knees (which is hard to do without using your hands). The Elite makes a chuffing noise and walks away. To keep from being discovered, I cut the channel without saying anything else.

It takes a while before my team shows up. But when they do, they are quick and quiet which makes me proud.

The lights suddenly go out, plunging the room into near-total darkness. The glow from the consoles and the Covenant's weapons are the only source of light. There's a brief moment of confusion before I hear the clink of a grenade dropping into the room. I look towards the sound and instantly regret it because a flashbang goes off, followed by a smoke bomb.

While my eyes are trying to recover from the sudden blinding light, the room erupts into a whirlwind of chaos. I hear the unmistakable sound of a DMR's subautomatic shots going off one-by-one in deadly rthym. The DMR is followed by quick bursts from an Assault Rifle, which is in turn followed by the drone of an SMG.

"Parkson, the Zealot and his men ran! He's heading for the generator rooms. Take Arnold and Kia and get after him," 211 shouts. "Fan out," I hear Zeke say.

The familiar clanking of boots fills the room after the dying screams and roars of the Covenant aliens dies out. One by one, each Spartan calls clear and several helmet lights fill the room, illuminating the massacre scene. Dead Grunts lay where they fell. A few of the Jackals hadn't made it out and lay in their own blood pools. Two of the Elites were killed in the initial attack and lay sprawled out near the mainframe, still clutching their weapons.

A light sweeps over me and I clench my eyes shut against it. "I've got him!" Jessica calls, looking over her shoulder. Another Spartan approaches and his helmet light turns off once he crouches down and begins to work on the plasma-cuffs. "Took you guys long enough," I joke. "Covies didn't want us at their tea party, you know how it is," 211 says. Once the cuffs shut off I bring my arms forward and rub my wrists. "They give you any trouble?" Zeke asks. "Just the usual," I reply and take 211's offered hand to stand up. I hadn't expected the pain in my abdomen and falter a little, forcing 211 to grab me to keep me from falling. "Ow," I grunt, straightening myself out. "Seems like they gave you the deluxe treatment," 211 says.

Arnold suddenly shouts over at us, making us all look at him. "I've got an alive Elite over here!" Zeke is the first to reach him and he turns on his headlamp. I make my way over as well, forcing myself to ignore the pain and walk straight without a limp or slouch.

Zeke pulls a gun and points it at the Elite's head who snarls in defiance. Looking past its four fingered hand, I can see he had been a victim of friendly fire confusion. Plasma burns pepper his abdomen and legs. Plus a few human bullets are stuck in him as well. "He'll live," Jessica says. She has studied in Elite (or "Sangheili, as she keeps reminding us) and has been our interpreter for the past few years. She understands it surprisingly well and uses her skills alongside her interrogation profession.

"Ask him what their goal is here," Zeke says, not taking his gaze away from the Elite. Jessica repeats the question to the Elite who then glares at her like she had just spat on him. The alien then replies, not sounding happy. I can see Jessica almost sigh, but then she removes her helmet and holds it next to her. The Elite snarls again and says something, which she then replies to. "What's he saying?" Zeke asks. "He wants to know why a woman of our species fights. I told him because it's how we are. Their women mainly stay on their home planet and take care of the children and their homes," Jessica explains. Jessica turns back to the Elite and repeats her earlier statement, in which the alien only starts laughing. He barks out a few words and laughs again. Jessica's features sour and she suddenly jams a finger into one of his wounds, making his laughter turn into screams of pain. She repeats her question from before, giving the Elite time to calm down. "You might want to go help the others with their fight. This might take me a while," she says, glancing back at us.

"I'll go help the others," I offer. Zeke jerks his chin at Jacobs who nods. "211, you stay here and keep watch," I say. "Copy that," he replies and readies his weapon again. Before we leave, Zeke reaches down and picks up a Plasma Rifle from the ground. "Here," he says and throws it to me. "I see they disarmed you." In fact, they had. They took my Assault Rifle and Pistol and I don't know what they did with it. Which really pisses me off. But with my luck, they had thankfully left Hokai's knife alone.

I take the gun and, after checking its charge, leave with Jacobs to help the other Spartans.

We need only follow the sounds of the firefight to quickly find where our teammates went to. I'm nearly struck by a plasma grenade as I round a corner. As it is, the damned thing drops my shields before I can react. "Watch it, they're hair triggered," Arnold warns. I move up around the wall and crouch behind a Covenant barricade. "Got them cornered?" I ask after taking a quick peek. "Got that right. I've never seen them fight so hard," he replies. "So. Any brilliant ideas how we're going to go through with this?" His helmet is scuffed with old dirt and has a deep scratch gouge, hinting at what happened to their Falcon.

I look over the barricade again at the enemy filled hallway. Making a charge would be suicide. There's no way we can move up without being cut down, so setting up explosives is out of the question. I get safely back into cover and suddenly remember the layout. "Parkson, the layout that the locals gave us. Look and see if it has an emergency access tunnel," I tell him. He drops out of the firing line and brings up the blueprints in his HUD. A moment later, he touches my arm and jerks his chin behind us. "Arnold, come with us. Kia, keep them scared," I order. "Who made you boss?" Arnold says jokingly, but follows me anyways.

Parkson backtracks through the hallway and finally stops at a metal door with a small glass window set near the top. He opens it and nods inside. He signs a few simple gestures which I had learned and I translate it for Arnold. "To get behind these guys, you'll need to take the first left and go straight for a few yards. Take the first right afterwards and keep going straight again and then take the next left. And once you come to the first right, it'll take you straight to the access hatch that will hopefully be right behind the enemies' backs," I say. "Hopefully?" Arnold repeats and shakes his head. "If you get me killed, Zeke is going to have your ass. And I mean that literally!" he says and enters the tunnel, illuminating it with his headlamp. Parkson shuts the door and gestures for me to take the lead.

Once we come back, Kia had just switched to her Magnum and looked beaten. "I don't know if they know your plan, but they suddenly started fighting a whole lot harder. We need to take them out before they get any ballsier," Kia says. "Arnold's working on it. Once he gives the word, we will need to give him covering fire to keep him from being overwhelmed. I don't know what he has planned, but I trust him," I say. "I should be the one trusting him. I _am_ the one who gets stuck with him," 211 says from behind us. I look behind to see him running up, weapon up and ready. "Weren't you supposed to be helping guard?" I ask him. He goes quiet for a few moments before snapping out of whatever he was thinking of. "Jacobs let me off," he answers. "How's that information coming from the Elite?" I ask, looking away from him to discharge a few bullets. "Jessica is good at what she does," he says simply.

"Incoming suiciders!" Kia shouts. She pops out of cover and drops two of the Grunts with very well-placed shots. I admire her acuracy, I really do. It's saved us on more than one occasion. I wonder if she'd make a good sharpshooter...

The Jackals give the last three suiciders covering fire and they get dangerously close before 211 takes them down. The explosions rattle our barricades and the armoring of mine pops off and smacks my shin hard, giving the armor a few good scratches. "I'm going to have to get this re-upholstered again," I say in annoyance. "The Military's got it covered. They just _love_ doing that. It is part of their job after all," 211 jokes.

"Arnold, what's your progress?" I ask the Spartan. "Almost there. These tunnels are way too long," he says. "When I get there, I'm going Chameleon. I'll get around and take out the biggest ass I can find. Even if it's a hunter. Once I give the order, come in with all you have. I don't want to die trying to be the hero." The term "going Chameleon" is something that Fireteam Zeta uses meaning that they'll use the camoflauge from their armor and sneak up behind a target. I'm not too sure what a Chameleon is, but I think it has something to do with camoflauge, or else they wouldn't use the term. Probably not, anyways.

Right before Arnold reaches his destination, an Elite decides to charge us. His energy sword flashes and he roars as he flies down the hallway, followed by a covering barrage of plasma bullets.

"I'm not getting gutted by an Elite!" 211 snarls. He suddenly jumps out of cover and meets the Sangheili head-on. The Elite's sword slashes right for 211 but he stops it with his own weapon. After the weapon is cut in half, 211 throws himself into the Elite and wraps his arms around its waist. The two go down just as Arnold opens fire on the other end. "Help would be nice!" Arnold calls. A hunter's roar carries over the sudden shift in directional fire and the walls shudder as its arm slams into the ground. I get out from behind cover and dodge the flashing Energy Sword. I then take a grenade from my belt and chuck it over the barricades. The frag lands right in behind three jackals with shields. They don't have time to duck before they are killed and thrown into the walls. The blast doesn't distract the Hunter and it continues to try and kill Arnold.

"You call that a distraction? Who taught you to be Spartans?!" Arnold exclaims. I watch as he rolls to a knee and empties his clip into its vital spots. Orange goo splatters the ground and walls and almost looks as if its glowing. " _You_ did!" I yell back. I run and slide in between two Grunts. Their surprised squeals are cut short as my knife cuts into their throats.

Parkson runs ahead of me and jumps high into the air and gracefully lands on the back of an Elite. The sheer weight of the drop makes the alien collapse, allowing Parkson to take hold of its skull and snap its neck.

Out of nowhere, 211 charges past both of us and comes right up behind the Hunter. He stabs a glowing Energy Sword right into its back. It goes up to the hilt and the Hunter quickly turns on 211. "That didn't kill you?!" 211 demands angrily. He launches himself off of his heel and rolls away from its shield. "Just die!"

Arnold gets behind it and grabs the hilt of the sword as he passes. "One more time," he says. He takes a few steps back and he suddenly flickers out of existence. The Hunter roars in angered confusion and begins spinning around. But it suddenly freezes, gives a strangled cry, and collapses. The Sword sticks out of its stomach, sizzling menacingly. Arnold reappears and pulls out the sword. He looks at us staring at him and steps off of the dead giant. "What?" He asks, shrugging. "Showoff," 211 says, wiping his hands off on his black underarmor.

I look over my shoulder and assess the damage. Toppled barricades, dead aliens, and living teammates. Kia had just finished off the last alien and is beginning to double-tap the bodies. And much to my dissapointment, the maroon armored Zealot lays dead without me having killed him. "Job well done, eh?" Arnold says. "Don't settle down yet. We still need to know why they were here," Kia says. "Isn't that obvious? They're Covenant. Invading and killing is what they do best," 211 says, checking his weapons before stowing them. "There's a hidden meaning, Spartan. Just think about it. On every op we've ever done, there was always something we found out," I say. "Three months ago, the Covies were about to make the reactor go into meltdown near a few major colonist cities. We were called because of strange COM activites and look at what we found. Just last month, Jackal raiders took down a barge using a stealth attack. They boarded before the Cole protocol could be used and almost got their nav data. We were headed to a recon and found the attack."

Kia nods, clearly understanding. "They always have a reason," she clarifies. "Something to do with water. No doubt about that," 211 says. Parkson taps my shoulder and points back down the hallway. He then signs to Kia who nods and turns to me. "We need to get back to the others. Our job here is done," Kia says. "Alright. Lets move it," I say and take the lead back to the main control room.

We arrive just as Jessica stabs her searing hot combat knife into the Elite's slumped hand. It lets out an agonized scream and tries to pull away, but is pinned by the imbedded blade.

Wincing, I look away to Zeke whom is leaning against the mainframe, stoicly looking at the show. "How's it coming?" I ask him. He looks up and stands fully. "He's opening up. Spitting out religious trash about 'the Path'. But Jessy has him. It's just a matter of time at this point," the squad leader answers. "What've you learned?" Arnold asks. "That their ship isn't on a specific mission. They came out here looking for resources to pillage. Saw that there were humans here and did what any good Covenant slave would do. Still don't know what they want with the plant in specific," Zeke answers and looks at the Elite. "but he'll tell us soon."

It takes another hour and a half until the Elite finally speaks again. Jessica had left him alone for about fourty minutes, letting his mind clear. Once Jessica returns to question him, he doesn't resist.

Jessica stops a few minutes later and I can see that the Elite isn't happy with his decision. "Do we know now?" Zeke asks, approaching her. All of us turn our attention towards her and she nods. "They were going to poison the water supply. We got inside just as they were beginning to apply the poison," Jessica says. "Good way to take out your enemies. Ruin something that they can't live without," 211 says grimly. "We got them stopped, right?" I ask. Jessica nods and gestures to the dead bodies. "You did, Jackson. Getting captured and everything," she adds with a chuckle. I frown but shake my head to refocus. "So, what's going to happen to him?" I look at the Elite who is hanging his head. "We release him," Jessica says. 211 looks astonished. " _What_? Release him so he can shoot us in the back? Don't you think that's a bit risky?" he asks. Jessica shakes her head and glances back at the alien. "He'll commit suicide as soon as he's far enough away from us. It's the honorable thing to do. But if he doesn't and returns to his ship, his entire clan will be dishonored and possibly killed. I don't know if he will want to risk that," she says. "That's kind of...grisly. All of that for just giving up information?" I say. "For being captured. 'Death before dishonor', It's basically what the Sangheili live on," Jessica says.

Jacobs had left to check on the situation outside and he suddenly reports back, talking fast and loud. "Guys, you've got to come here. We are in a _shit-ton_ of trouble."


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six

**2132, September 11th, 2547 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/Colonist planet[TUNGSTEN II], local water treatment plant**

"Did they just unload the entire ship?" Arnold asks. "I wouldn't be surprised," Jessica says.

The entire hill beneath the water treatment plant is filled with Covenant soldiers. Hunters are at the front behind the Grunts and Elites are behind the Grunts with the Jackals taking up the rear. It's just a massive group, an entire shipload. It's obvious fighting our way out of this would be useless.

"Blue team, Zeta, we've got a problem," Paller calls over the radio. "We've noticed," Zeke says. "Not them, the civilians. They've come through an underground access hatch with guns. They say they're willing to fight to defend their homes. They won't leave back the way they came," the squad leader says. Before I can respond, Zeke speaks up. "How many are there?"

There's a pause in the chatter while Paller gets a headcount. "Fifty-seven. A few have even said they're ex-military," Paller responds. Zeke turns to us and I understand what he wants to do. "Civilians?" I ask hesitantly. "They want to fight for their planet. This is their chance," Zeke says. His tone is firm. And...he outranks me. I want so bad to stop him, to tell him that he's wrong and to make him stop. He will risk all of them to save just a handful of Spartans.

Kia suddenly points out over the field of Covenant soldiers waiting to kill us. "There's a ship back there," She says. I look where she's pointing and see a sleek dot in the distance. If I hadn't been looking for it, I wouldn't have seen it. "Jessy, what do you think it is?" Kia asks the other female Spartan. Jessica peers into the distance and produces binoculars. It takes a moment, but she finally identifies the ship. "Standard Cruiser class," she responds. Kia takes the binoculars and makes a confused noise. "Why is it so low in the atmosphere?" she mutters. The binoculars whir as she increases the zoom. "Ah...that's why."

She hands me the binoculars and waits. I find the ship again and tighten my grip on the edges as I spot the damage. "A glancing blow to their engines, see it?" Kia asks. "A MAC," I say incredulously. "Along the underside, more human weapons damage. That isn't plasma," Kia says. "Wait, the UNSC is here? What the hell are they doing this far out?" Arnold wonders.

We had been sent to this colony with a single Frigate and Paller's ODST team for our mission. We weren't expected to return for a month and it had only been a week. We hadn't sent out a distress beacon, and we didn't have an escort. We were just another UNSC ship going behind enemy lines to help a planet in need. If this Covenant ship was grounded, than the damage is new. Very new. When we had started our assault three hours ago, the ship was safely perched in orbit. But it had been forced down because it had been damaged. Maybe we would survive this after all. But that all depended on whether or not that ship in orbit was an insurrectionist.

Obviously, Zeke doesn't trust it because he waves it off. "We'll figure it out later. First, we need to get away from here," Zeke says and turns away to contact Paller again. "Paller, get the civilians up here. Station half on the roof and half inside near the entrance. We'll need as much firepower as possible to fight them off. Give the civilians their orders and meet us by the emergency exits over the ocean in fifteen."

Paller comes back with a tone that speaks of controlled anger. "With all due respect, _sir_ , we are going to stay and fight with the civilians." He sounds disgusted with the idea of leaving them, and the word "sir" is said with disdain. "Understood. Good luck, Marine," Zeke says, ignoring his tone. He cuts the channel and begins to head for the ocean-side exit.

I can't stand it anymore. I speed up to him and catch his arm hard and turn him around. "We're just going to _leave_ them?" I demand. "What happened to 'no marine left behind'?"

Zeke tenses up and I can picture his eyes steeling over as they always do in these kinds of situations. "This is a war, Jackson. The ODST's are helping the civilians and Paller has opted to be left behind. My final worry is my team and yours," he snaps and rips his arm free. Jacobs stops next to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry about it," is all he says before catching back up with his team.

I am genuinely worried that Zeke has been in this fight for too long. There's a point where you get burned out, where you stop caring. And that's the point where you quit the military before you make too stupid of a decision. And I'm afraid that Zeke has reached that point.

The ocean-side exit is more or less a sheer cliffside drop straight into the ocean below. A steep staircase that lacks railings winds down to a wide dock. A few boats are parked inside, only one being big enough to hold all of us.

"Jessica, Kia, get that boat working. Jacobs, Arnold, you keep watch," Zeke commands. "Same goes for you Parkson and 211," I tell my team. I don't like him ordering my teammates around like that, but he gets hard-headed under these kinds of time-sensitive situations. It's not hurting anything, so I just let it slide.

The waves crash noisily against the edges of the docks, creating an eery creaking noise from the metal struts holding everything together. Clouds had gathered in the sky, casting a gloomy look about the land. I look back up the cliff we had descended and hear the firefight beginning. Both human and Covenant gunfire rings through the sky and I just turn my head to try and ignore it.

Were I in command, I would have found a way to get everyone out. Zeke calls himself a leader, but doesn't a leader try to save everyone? I might understand it later after we're safe. But for now, I have my doubts.

My attention is turned to the water as the sudden roar of an engine comes to life. "All aboard," Kia calls from the boat's cockpit. All eight of us file aboard and Jessica works the controls to get it moving.

The boat itself is more or less a transport vehicle. It has the speed and stability of a barge, but the power and speed of a powerboat plus It has a strange and awkward design, no doubt a prototype of some sort.

"I've got an island about thirty klicks out. It's big, safe, and out of the way. We can gather our bearings and recouperate there," Kia says. She is sitting down in one of the on-deck seats. She looks a little unstable because this is one of her first times on the sea. 211 looks downright sick but Parkson looks like he's enjoying himself.

Parkson removes his battered helmet revealing dark red hair that has been greased with sweat and helmet flattened. He reaches a gloved hand over the edge of the boat and into the ocean's spray and holds it there for a few seconds before taking it back and smoothing it over his hair. I look over at 211 who has his hands on his knees and looks like he's about to vomit. "Hey, 211, might want to remove your helmet before you have another accident," I say with a grin. 211 growls but removes it and sets it on the ground between his feet. "I hate water," he groans. "Give me the cold, lifeless, vacuum of space over this crap any day."

The Island is fairly big with plenty of life covering it. We come up on a beach with pale sand and clear water. A nearby river calmly drains back into the ocean, drawing deep gouges into the ground. We grind to a stop on the beach without worrying about pushing it back out, seeing as how we are eight fully capable Spartans.

Fortunately for us, the boat has supplies loaded onto it and, as we pop open load after load, we find plenty of supplies to last us the night. We don't set up tents in fear of being ambushed but we do find supplies for a fire and some food that isn't Military sanctioned MRE's for once

Kia, Arnold, 211 and I set up a camp area near the river while Jacobs and Zeke fish out the fresh water to be purified.

Soon enough, we've built ourselves a fairly cozy area with plenty of room to move around. "...and the encampment is here. Take-off might be a little tricky, but with Arnold flying, we'll make it," I hear Jessica saying. She had told us that an encampment of unknown contacts arrived near our frigate which we landed in a rocky outcropping. It depended on whether or not they were friendly if we would have to fight our way out.

Everyone but Zeke and I have removed their helmets to let their heads dry out. 211's and Arnold's bare skulls, however, just needed a small wash to be clean instead of full-out care like the rest of us. We are all set out around the campsite, doing our own things. Kia and Parkson are cleaning out their weapons and assessing their armor. Arnold and Jacobs are chatting to each other by the firepit. I'm sitting at the very edge pulling guard duty by the treeline. Even though the island looks empty, it doesn't hurt to be on guard.

The sun is quickly falling and the smell of rain is strong in the air, easily overpowering the faint smell of the river and the sea. Every now and again, I can hear a thunderclap in the distance and a faint splinter of lightning crawls across the sky. But whatever is brewing won't be coming for us.

It's times like these that I dread, the calm before the next fight. You know there's going to be more ahead, but you can't do anything about it. I hate being alone in my head. I always go back to past battles and what I could have done instead and what could have gone wrong. There's always more what-ifs that I throw into it. What if the Jackals shot first? What if Paller and his ODST's hadn't been able to cover me? Shutting out those thoughts is hard when you're alone.

As the day drags on, the sun keeps dropping further and further into the horizon. The patter of rain begins falling and I look into the sky, watching it drop. It isn't very heavy so I can still easily hear over it. But all I listen to is the soft breeze in the large leaves of the tallest trees and the crackle of the fire.

By the end of my shift, all is quiet. All of the Spartans had gone to sleep. I had actually taken a few hours more than I was supposed to, but I wasn't tired and frankly, I was enjoying the peace and quiet for once. But when I finally decide I need to sleep, I get up and find Arnold who is splayed out in the sand and reach down and shove his shoulder. I quickly take a step back just as he wakes up and instinctively slashes at me with his knife. He blinks sleepily at me after realizing I'm not an enemy. "Your turn," I say and go to find myself somewhere to rest my head.

I decide to lay down near the river and remove my helmet. My chestplate makes it a little hard to lay down but I've slept in my armor enough times to get around the uncomfortable sensation. I end up on my back after a few unsuccessful attempts on my side. I stare up at the stars and find myself wondering about how many threats are out there, just waiting to overpower us. We as humans are far spread and fortified. But if there's something that just as powerful as the Forerunners, will we ever survive them if they suddenly appear? I know we would put up a fight. But how far would we get? I leave these thoughts behind as I drift into a deep sleep and begin dreaming of wonderful feelings. Things I might never have again.

I awake the next morning to something jabbing me hard in the shoulder. My heartbeat instantly jumps and adrenaline floods into my veins before I can stop it. I throw myself to my knees and grab the rod that had been attacking me. I rip it hard, seeing it as a weapon, but stop once I hear Arnold laughing. I growl and drop the harmless stick and lean back on my heels. "I hate you guys," I grunt. "We know," Arnold says, grinning broadly. "Wake up, buttercup. Daylight's wasting," Jacobs says, standing over me. I get to my feet and retrieve my helmet which had gotten covered in sand. "I've got sand in places sand shouldn't be," I mutter. "We all do," Jessica says.

It takes about fifteen minutes to pack up our camp and get the boat back into the water. 211, Arnold, and I push it while Jessica, Jacobs, Zeke, and Kia sit in the boat. Imagine the heaviest thing you've ever had the displeasure of pushing and maginify if by a hundred and add the loose footing of sand. That's what it was like.

The metal scrapes roughly against the ground and the water sloshes against the hull as we shoulder it back out to sea. Once it's far enough out, we rush to jump inside. The sides are very high and 211 ends up dangling off of the edge for a few minutes before I help him up. He yells at all of us for leaving him before sitting down and looking sick again.

It's pretty peaceful as we sail back for our ship. We had hatched a plan (a fairly crazy one) during the night that involves us taking down the Covenant ship.

It still has weapons and shields but no main engines. So it's stuck in the lower atmosphere and isn't strong enough to boost out of the planet's pull. We've decided that Zeta will go onto our ship and act as the distraction by harassing the Cruiser long enough for my team to quite literally drop onto the ship. It will take precise aiming, timing, and an insane amount of luck. Zeta will have to punch a hole in their shields just seconds before we hit it so we can actually get in instead of slamming into the ship like a bug hitting a windshield. We'll use our grav boots to hook onto the side and crawl down into an access hatch. Once inside, we'll need to find a way to take out the engines and crash the thing. But escaping the crash is something we have yet to come up with. Just another benefit of being behind enemy lines, I guess.

Things begin to kick up once we reach the rocky shores that will lead to our transport. The boat grinds roughly to a halt as the waterline abruptly cuts off and turns into stone. We each load out one by one and secure the area before moving on. "I've pin pointed the unknown encampment a mile from here. Doesn't look like they have found our ship, but we need to prepare for a fight. If they're friendly, we ignore them and go on our way. If they're not, we take them out," Jessica says. "We'll need some recon on them. I suggest Kia goes with Parkson to scope it out," I say, looking at the two. "I'm fine with that," Arnold says, looking at Jacobs. "You?"

Jacobs just shrugs. "Fine by me," he says. I look at Kia and Parkson and they nod. Kia grabs 211's DMR from his back and ignores his complaints as she hands him her BR. "I need the scope," Is all she says before climbing the hill to begin their recon.

They disappear over the edge and are gone for a long time. We wait for them patiently and pass the time by checking our weapons and armor and going over the battle plan.

Zeke sets down a portable holographic projector and brings up the Covenant cruiser we'll be attacking. "I've found the ship's name in the UNSC's battle database. The _Silent Praise_ was present in the battle of Sigma Octanus IV but escaped into slipspace before it was destroyed and suffered a few heavy hits, but was repaired. It showed up again during Thrug, and one more time in a random encounter since then by the UNSC _Deadbeat_ , but it was a non-violent encounter. From the information that has been gathered on this vessel, it seems to be a pretty standard ship. Full crew compliment and weapons armaments. But what I found that is strange, the _Silent Praise_ has had two Shipmasters in a few month's time. When contacted by the _Hyroglyph_ on Thrug, there was a larger Elite wearing Maroon armor. And when it was found again by the _Deadbeat_ , an Elite with white armor answered. So we can assume that it either has two Shipmasters in command, or one was dismissed soon after second contact. But we need to be on alert for both possibilities," Zeke says. As he explains the different encounters and the Shipmasters, flat images and short videos appear next to the ship itself, showing the encounters and what the shipmasters look like.

"Will you be going out to orbit after pulling down the shields?" 211 asks. "We'll do a fly-by to make sure you guys are still alive. But other than that, we'll be sitting up in orbit and waiting for the ship to go down," Zeke says, placing a hand on his hip. "Just remember to set down a beacon after you get your asses out," Arnold says. "You don't want to be stuck down there just because you forgot to call for help," Jacobs adds.

Another hour passes before Kia and Parkson report back from their recon, formally unable to communicate because of cautious radio silence. They come sliding down the hill and kick up dust and rocks. Kia throws back 211's DMR and retrieves her own weapon.

"Large encampment, it's going to be a pain in the ass to get passed," Kia says, looking at me. "Are they hostile or friendly?" I ask, crossing my arms. Upon watching my teammate, I realize her armor has new dirt scuffs that have been scrapped into her kneepads and chestplate. Her visor reflects back no emotion, but I've known her long enough to recognize the stance shift and the slight tightening of her fingers, signaling a change of emotion. "No, sir. They..." she stops and shakes her head upon remembering what she saw. "I think you had better watch."

She pulls the recording from her helmet and slides it into the holographic projector. It plays through until they leave our group and go up the hill.

They trek through the brush and dirt until they crest over the hill and the valley comes into view, littered with sharp rocky spires and patches of scraggly grass and bushes. It's always interesting to watch Kia set up for recon. It's swiftly proffesional and mezmirizing.

Kia lays on her chest and scopes through the DMR and the unknown campsite comes into view. It isn't very large but there are three Pelicans parked across from each other with transportation vehicles scattered around, forming a vague perimeter.

The ones inhabiting the camp are indeed human. But they aren't UNSC. Not by a long shot. Everything points to them being Insurrectionists.

Kia fast-forwards the recording until Parkson silently points out an incoming transportation vehicle incoming from the west. Kia enhances the zoom on the scope to maximize and tracks the warthog until it comes to a stop in the middle of the encampment. The cargo is unloaded and forced to their knees. My breath catches in my throat once I realize who the captured soldier is. His head is badly scrapped and dried blood is caked onto his head. He had lost his helmet and different parts of his armor are either lost or charred. But even though he had lost everything, Paller holds his head high and keeps his defiance up even in the face of death.

"This isn't good," Kia whispers over the recording. Parkson grunts in agreeance and she shifts slightly, watching the event below them. There are four other ODST's who are lined up next to each other in a row and forced to their knees. Their hands are tied behind their backs and they each voluntarily look the firing squad in the eye as weapons are trained on their heads. Kia winces as the insurrectionists pull the trigger and each body falls one by one. In the end, the brave ODST's had looked death in the face and their bravery never faltered. Their memories would be honored, but at a later date. For now, we have a problem to deal with.

The recording ends and a grim silence falls over us for a long time. Finally, Parkson breaks the silence by clearing his throat and gesturing back towards the encampment. "Right...we need to find a way to take them down. Zeta, any ideas?" I ask, looking to Zeke and the rest of his team. Zeke seems to snap out of a daze and nods. "We'll go in with a stealth approach, use our reflective plates. Jacobs still has a few charges left over so we'll plant those on the pelicans and keep them grounded. Blue team, you can get our backs and keep us covered if something goes wrong. We'll rejoin you after planting the charges and help you take down the rest," he says. "Lets get moving then. Innies don't wait for anybody," Kia says.

I watch Zeta through my Rifle's scope as they slowly approach the encampment using a left flanking maneuver, keeping themselves downwind. We keep in contact with them during the duration of the approach which only lasts twelve minutes, and then its radio-silence from there on out.

One by one the Spartans shimmer out of existence and move into the camp. We switch our gazes to the insurrectionist soldiers and keep them in sight while waiting for the others to be done. It takes fifteen minutes, but Zeta quickly rejoins us on the hill. "I've always loved fireworks, how about you?" Arnold asks, holding a remote detonator. "Let the sparks fly," I say with a grin.

Each of the Pelicans goes up in a giant fireball that consumes everything in its path. Charred bodies are thrown clear and debris is scattered around the encampment. "Weapons free, take 'em down!" Zeke calls.

Gunfire rings from the hill side and finds their targets with deadly aim. Dust erupts in brief spouts from missed shots and Jessica's Sniper Rifle cracks in the sky as she carefully takes down her targets.

Nothing moves down below and we send scouts to make sure all is safe. After they send the all-clear signal, we leave the hillside and begin marching back to our ship.

It's a complete and total relief once we set our eyes on the magnificent beast sitting on the grey rocks, camoflauged against enemy sensors. It looks completely untouched and ready to fly. Once we get inside, the pre-flight checks are done, the engines warmed up, and everything is battened down.

The ship we landed is actually a space fairing ship, but we had to get it onto the surface because of possible threats by keeping it in orbit. Arnold has very few problems with getting it off of the ground and into the sky. Once we're air-borne, we have to sweep wide enough to come in a direct flight line with the Covenant ship.

We are instructed to go down into hangar two and wait to drop. It's intimidating standing next to an open hangar door with just the shield keeping you from falling to a certain death.

"This has to be the craziest thing we've done yet," 211 says, watching the land below sweep by. "Where's your spirit? This has got to be the _funnest_!" Kia says with a laugh. " _Covenant ship in sight. ETA, two minutes,"_ Arnold says from the COM channel.

We draw even closer to the hangar door, and that's when the shield drops. Due to the speed of the ship it creates a slipstream where there's a barrier between the wind and the ship, so we aren't pulled off of our feet and thrown outside. But it's plenty intimidating standing just inches from a several hundred foot fall to the hard ground below. " _Countdown to insertion_ ," Arnold says. I brace my knees and get ready to be the first one out. " _Five, four, three, two...one."_

Steeling my nerves, I launch myself out of the hangar bay and into the sky. There's a breif moment of vertigo before I am able to align myself. I drop through the slipstream and am slapped in the face by the wind once I begin gaining speed. I am a bullet flying through the sky, a rock falling from a cliff. The thrill of it is exciting and terrifying. But I am reminded of my mission once the sleek covenant ship comes into sight.

There's an absolutely ear shattering boom somewhere above me and a MAC round discharges from the UNSC ship and slams into the Covenant shields. The shields ripple but hold. And as we near the shield, a second boom reverberates through the sky and collides into the shield that is coming up at me at an alarming speed. The honey-combed forcefield ripples and finally shatters, withdrawing quickly as the shields break.

But it isn't long until I realize that something is wrong. My trajectory is off and I find myself drifting away from the top of the ship, where we planned to land. I desperately try to fix this mistake and brace myself for a hard landing.

It only takes a second to slam hard into the side of the ship after flaring myself out. The metal is as sleek as it looks, and my heart drops as I begin sliding off of the top. I scramble for a hold, desperate to save myelf. The ground looms below like the threatening maws of death. I fall further and further and my feet clear the edge and my body begins to follow. How the hell am I going to save myself this time?


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven

**1122, September 12th, 2547 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/Colonist planet[TUNGSTEN II], onboard Covenant Cruiser** _ **Silent Praise**_

Just as my body begins to slip off of the point of no return, something incredibly heavy slams me back into place. I begin to fall again but a hand shoots out and grabs my forearm. I latch onto the hand and he keeps me from falling. "Hold on!" 211 shouts. He then begins swinging me and finally lets go, sending me shooting towards the access hatch. It has enough of a lip that I can catch before beating it in with my free fist and pull myself inside. 211 comes in behind me and presses himself against the opposite wall.

We sit for a few moments, catching our breaths. "I think you owe me one," 211 says once he can talk. "To say the least," I answer with a chuckle.

From there on out, it's all professional. We get Kia and Parkson on a communications channel and find that they made it in without problems and had watched our ship shoot safely into orbit. But we run into a problem. We have no idea where the others are and we have no defining features to explain to them other than a hallway, which looks the same as all of the others. So we decide to meet up at the bridge which is located in the middle of the Cruiser instead of the traditional front that we as humans use.

Our stealth approach is soon lost once we enter a chamber filled with Grunts. Both of our Mjolnir suits emit an audible alarm and switch to their reserve oxygen as we step into the methane flooded room. The substance billows out around us, making us seem as ghosts as we enter the room and open fire, dropping as many of the stubby little aliens as we can. But unfortunately, someone triggers an alarm which quickly sounds throughout the entire ship.

"So much for stealth," 211 says once we leave through a door that sits opposite of the side we had just come in through. We run into an Elite in blue armor that had heard the commotion and came to investigate. He roars in surprise and ducks into another room. A moment later, four Grunts pop into the hallway and spray us with plasma, forcing us to retreat back into the methane filled room. The misty substance is now spilling out into the hallway, creating a temporary shroud that swirls angrily around the aliens beyond.

After recouperating, we push forwards and take down the opposition and start moving deeper inside of the ship. With each chance we get, we check in with the other two members of our team. As it turns out, we had drawn all of the attention and they hadn't been found yet. 211 tells me that he had been monitoring the Covenant communication net and understood that more reinforcements were being sent our way, and that we have little chance of getting to the bridge with any hint of stealth. Even with that threat behind us, I quickly think up a plan to even out the complications.

"Kia, Parkson, 211 and I will head down to the reactor level. You two will need to assassinate the Shipmaster alone and then find your own ways off of the ship. We'll give you a twelve minute grace period after the Shipmaster is dead, then we'll overload the core and get off of the thing before it blows," I say, issuing the commands quietly as both of us crouch low behind a cluster of pipes and exposed circuits. There is a long delay before either of the two separated Spartans can reply. "Copy that, sir. We'll be outside soon. Good luck," Kia says. She cuts the channel and I have to force the worry and doubt out of my mind. Kia and Parkson are good, experienced, soldiers. If anyone can get such a delicate mission done, they can.

"Reactor is a few levels down. We may have to fight our way through to it," 211 says, looking to me. I then take a moment to evaluate my Spartan, and am proud as to what glares back at me. He's a sturdy minded, brutish, sonuvabitch that can and will do anything without complaint. I have no doubt that he will have my back as we do a potentially suicide rush into the reactor room.

"Lets get moving, then," I say and take lead through the next hallway. The next few minutes are some of the longest I've ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Wave after wave of enemies push against us, trying to force us off of their ship. Only through pure persistence, pain, and skill do we manage to survive without serious damage. I have to admit, however, that 211 is the main reason we ever made it to the reactor. He kept rushing the enemy lines with his Shotgun and planting buckshot straight into the chest of the biggest target. I backed him up, and only then would we advance.

As we enter the room to the main power supply, we quickly clear the space and find the controls nestled into a corner. I sweep the immediate area with my gaze as I open a communications channel with our other two teammates. "Parkson, Kia, report," I say. There's a burst of static and gunfire floods through the channel. "The Shipmaster's down! We're just outside of the hangars. Go ahead and overload the core. We'll be out soon," Kia answers, raising her voice to be heard over the exchanging gunfire.

"We got the go-ahead," I tell 211 after cutting the channel. I then begin to look at the consoles, thoroughly perplexed by the alien glyphs. "How are we going to overload this thing?" I wonder out loud as my gaze sweeps the alien controls. "Here's a way," 211 says.

He takes his shotgun, turns it over, and smashes its butt into the nearest console. The entire thing explodes with fire and electricity and 211 moves on to another. He beats it up with his fist and weapon until each console looks as if a Spartan had come through and smashed them.

The Soldier steps back to enjoy his handywork and is rewarded with a series of blaring alarms. Having been studying the Covenant languages with Jessica, he picks up the right amount of words to know that the core is overloaded. "We have ten minutes," he says calmly. "Times wasting," I say and lead the way out of the reactor room.

Everyone has started to evacuate the ship per an automated alart. Panicked Covenant soldiers flood through the hallways and only the bravest stop to attack us. But that's enough to slow us down and keep us from escaping.

As we are finishing up a firefight in one of the storage rooms, an explosion rocks the entire ship and the hull bucks underneath our feet, throwing us into the far wall. 211 is first to his feet and helps me up. "First warning," the Spartan says while retrieving his shotgun that had slipped from his grasp.

We ignore the vast majority of gunfire coming our way as more explosions rock through the ship. Circuits, pipes, and all matter of power supplies burst around us like grenades and shower us with fire and venting plasma as we race for the hangar.

We pass through a final set of doors to find a spacious hangar awaiting us. A U-shaped dropship is frantically pulling out of the open door, leaving behind a frenzied crew of alien Soldiers whom we quickly gun down. Two Banshees sit side-by-side on the floor and 211 quickly hops into his. I am about to reach my own as the ship bucks underneath me and dips harshly towards the ground. The Banshee I was just about to enter slides out of the open gap and into the air.

I flip around and try to find purchase but am given none. I too find myself ejected through the open gap and soon enter a free-fall hundreds of feet above the ground.

The ship's engine above me spews fire and is beginning its plunge to the ground. Tiny dots rush out of every opening as its occupants abandon the vessel. I then flip around to face the incoming ground and flare myself out to try and control my fall better.

I spot something banking out of the corner of my eye to find a Banshee watching me. I had first thought it was another fleeing alien, but a voice in my helmet soon tells me otherwise.

"Now what are you doing out here?" 211 says to me. "Don't you know that you're not a bird?" The light glints off of his Banshee's wings and he begins to shoot towards me. "Jackson, I'm going to pass underneath you. Once I do, grab onto the wing. You don't have a long window of time, so just trust me on this."

One comforting thing about having grown up with his insane ideas is knowing that they work. No matter how it turns it, you always come out alive. So I have no choice but to wordlessly go along with his scheme to save my life.

I track his approach and ready myself for the jolt of my life. He angles down in a sharp decline and he is right on top of me out of nowhere.

My arms shoot out and whack into the side of the wing. My fingers then clench down as hard as they can and my arms almost rip out of their sockets as I am jerked into the flightpath of the Banshee.

"Hooah!" 211 cheers once he feels me hit and hold on. I am swept along with the flying vehicle with half of my body propped up on bird and the other half dangling hundreds of feet above the air. "Craziest...thing...yet," I manage to say over the jack hammering in my heart. "You have officially earned your spot in the Air Assault division," 211 says with a laugh.

It takes more than a few minutes to fly around and find where Parkson and Kia had gone to. As it turns out, they stole a Phantom and piloted it to the ground to wait for us. They had watched our stunt VIA a Sniper Rifle's scope and Kia tells me it was the stupidest thing she's seen yet. But there's a sense of relief in her voice that tells me it had her worried. Parkson holds up a recording chip with a smug smile and keeps it away from 211 when he protests and tries to take it away from him.

Instead of setting down a beacon we decide to meet Zeta up in orbit and dock the Phantom with them. After all, we have standing orders to capture any Covenant tech we come across. It's also a new toy to play with.

But something is wrong once we contact them. Instead of Arnold answering, the shipboard AI does. He tells us to dock in the rear hangar. But the thing that really throws me off is the fact that he doesn't ask for our UNSC identification. The AI is very strict about that and asks us for our ID for _everything_. Plus how he was speaking...he didn't have any of his personality. It's almost as if he had a complete reset.

We cautiously approach the ship but I tell the others to keep their safety off and their fingers on the trigger. But nothing could ever prepare us for what happens next.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight

**1142, September 12th, 2547[MILITARY CALENDAR/] Above Colonist Planet[TUNGSTEN II], Onboard UNSC** _ **Cold Hearth**_ **[COMPROMISED]**

As soon as we step foot into the hangar, we're trapped. The door leading into the rest of the ship opens and a group of unfamiliar faces steps inside, filling the catwalk and surrounding us.

"I suggest you put down your weapons," the female of the group says. She stands with her arms folded and has a Rocket Launcher resting dangerously on her shoulder. The other soldiers have their weapons trained on our heads and don't look like they're going to back down.

"Think we can take them?" 211 asks me over a closed channel. "I'm not giving up that easily. I'll go down with the ship if I need to," Kia growls, speaking over the same channel. I don't answer the woman on the catwalk but keep quiet and weigh the options.

Parkson had stayed inside of the Phantom, probably following one of his hunches, and it's obvious the others don't know that a fourth Spartan is hidden inside. If we can utilize the element of surprise he still has, we can get ourselves out of this situation. But it all relies upon whether or not they'll send some of the people down to restrain us, and if Parkson is fast enough. There are too many variables, but we'll have to push the risk.

I put down my weapon and slide it away. 211 and Kia follow my lead instantly. If they have any objections, they don't show it. An indicator light winks on my HUD under Parkson's tag, showing that he understands what's going on. I don't allow myself a change in emotion as the woman up top jerks her chin and sends more than half of her soldiers down to restrain us.

"Good choice," she says, lowering the barrel of her missile launcher. It's a decision that possibly gives her life away.

As the soldiers are restraining our hands, they begin moving into the Phantom to secure it. I had just seen a shadow move against the corner of the room, near the catwalk, and know that Parkson is already on the move. We comply readily with their demands, but I almost have to laugh as they look over the Energy Sword hilt on my thigh, labeling it as "non-dangerous". If only they knew.

We are just about to begin moving deeper into the ship when the shadow resting against the back wall makes its move. A Spartan appears out of thin air just behind the Insurrectionist with the rocket launcher and brings the butt of his gun down onto her neck. Stunned by the attack, the Rocket Launcher falls onto the deck where Parkson retrieves it. I watch as he turns to the last remaining innies on the catwalk and pulls the trigger, sending a missile sailing into their midst where it detonates with an ear splitting explosion.

In a simultaneous movement, the rest of attack our guards, bringing them down. There's a crack of metal on bone as 211 headbutts his Insurrectionist, breaking his face and dropping him. He then seizes the keys and somehow manages to unlock himself. "Hell yeah!" he laughs. 211 then unlocks me next and I waste no time in grabbing my Energy Sword and turning it on.

There's a crack of energy as the blade appears. The weapon connects to my HUD and shows a slightly depleted charge. There are four remaining guards in the room whom are all in differing stages of surprise.

I charge the first guard head-on and lunge forwards with the sword. He screams as he finds his torso disconnected with the rest of his body. The next guard doesn't have time to voice his pain once I decapitate his head. I turn on the other two guards to find them already dead on the ground. And it's only then that the hangar room is finally clear of hostiles.

"We'll need to retake the bridge," Kia says after double-tapping each of the dead insurrectionists and taking their ammo. "Agreed. Parkson hang onto that Launcher. As soon as we enter, aim dead center at the floor and only fire once. 211, Kia, after the dust clears you will need to storm in and secure the area. I'll be behind you, so check your fire," I say and catch a clip that Kia throws to me for my assault rifle. "Would you like some shock with that awe?" 211 says while reloading his Shotgun with armor piercing rounds

There are a surprisingly low amount of innies posted inside of the ship itself. I'm assuming that they didn't know Spartans had been inside, and came understaffed. But as we near the bridge, my assumptions are blown clear out of the water.

I set up behind Kia who stands next to the door to the bridge. Parkson is opposite to us with 211 ready behind him with his Shotgun. Parkson is readying the charges when I _feel_ something behind us. I look over Parkson's shoulder but see nothing. I ignore the feeling and refocus on the EOD's work.

But just seconds before he blows the charges, I see it. A ripple by the hull just beside 211. I backpedal as fast as I can and am about to shout a warning when the Energy Sword appears. 211 must have heard the thing activate because he does something that saves his life.

The hulking Spartan suddenly throws himself backwards where the glowing sword comes within inches of impaling him. Parkson whips around but comes face-to-face with a second Elite who had just decloaked. Parkson then slams into the ground from a lights-out punch to his faceplate.

The occupants inside of the bridge flood into the hallway and all four of us find ourselves surrounded by both Covenant and human soldiers.

The following fight is short and sweet. Two Elites gang up on me and take me down while a grand total of three Elites rush Kia. It takes five insurrectionists and three Elites to finally subdue 211. It leaves us thoroughly confused as to how we are still alive. We had fought like hell, only to be contained with cuffs around our wrists instead of bullets in our heads.

"Okay, so you have us. What now?" 211 snarls. "Ransom, of course. Do you know how much _eight_ Spartans are worth?" one of the Insurrectionists says. It then dawns on me that Zeta must have been captured as well.

"Do you really think that the UNSC will just willingly pay you the money? I would like to think they're not that stupid," Kia says. "You overestimate your precious UNSC. They've done dumber," another one of the innies says. "Zip it. Move them to the transport, pronto," the lead Insurrectionist says, jerking his chin to the other Innies and Covenant soldiers.

We are then lead to a docking bay where a ship-to-ship tube had been forcibly installed. The decompressed tube boasts artificial gravity and a weak supply of air which is close to dwindling away as we enter the second ship.

Without another word from our imprisoners, we are thrown into the brig which has a separating wall keeping us contained. But there to greet us is all four members of Fireteam Zeta. They look tired but alive.

"Well...hell," 211 says. "About sums it up," Arnold answers, rubbing the top of his bald scalp with a gloved hand. "Welcome to our humble abode. Want to try some gruel? It's only a little better than vomit," Jacobs says, gesturing to a bowl of grey slop.

I sit down on one of the benches and remove my helmet and poke at a clotting headwound that kept dripping into my eye before it dried. "Cameras?" I ask Zeke without looking at him. "Visual without audio. There...there...and there," he says, slowly pointing out each of the cameras that stare at us from the corners. "Lets hope they don't read lips," I say, looking up at the camera that watches us for the moment. "I bet they read fingers, though," 211 says and turns to the one that currently watches us. "Hey, assholes!" he yells to it. He then extends his middle finger and flips the bird to the watchers. He laughs and turns away from it and removes his helmet to examine the damage.

"Got you good, didn't they?" Jacobs says, looking at 211's shattered visor. The Spartan frowns and runs a thumb over the jagged material. "Going to be a pain in the ass to fix," he mutters.

"So what happened?" Kia asks, getting to the question on all of our minds. "I don't know how they did it, but the assholes somehow reset the shipboard AI. He turned into a vegetable. We couldn't get anything from him. Next was the EMP. Again, no clue how that happened. The boarding party we could handle, but those sorry excuses that call themselves Elites came in with their camofluage and beat the living hell out of each of us," Arnold explains. "I was curious about that. What are they? It's obvious they're not Covenant. A milita band, maybe?" Kia asks.

"We were thinking Mercenaries. As strange as it sounds. Jessy caught some of what they were saying and a few of them were talking about payment," Zeke says. "So they're not with the Covenant?" Kia asks incredulously "That's what we were thinking. Why else would they be working with humans?" Zeke answers. "Well, remember the Rubble?" Kia points out. Jessica chuckles quietly from where she is sitting and shakes her head. "A story of sneaky betrayal. It always ends in some bad way," the female Spartan says.

"So did you find out why they let us live?" Arnold asks, changing the subject after a moment's silence. "Ransom. I'm assuming several million for each of us," I answer. "This whole thing will last twenty-four hours, tops," Jacobs says, leaning back against the wall with his legs crossed. "Don't the Innies understand that the UNSC is smarter than that?" Kia asks, shaking her head. "Appearently not," 211 answers.

It takes a total of four days for anything to happen. The ransom went out the very day we were captured. I could tell we had moved away from the colony planet by listening to the other Insurrectionists during our hour of "free-time" which basically consists of sitting in a slightly bigger room and staring at the wall.

But nothing truly happens until the fourth day when a deep thud reverberates through the entire ship. A few moments later several more thuds follow and an alarm wails outside of our cell. "The calvary has arrived," Jacobs says, standing up and brushing off his armor. "Who wants to bet it's a Spartan infiltry team?" Arnold says, looking up from his seat and watching the far wall that leads to the brig room. "I'll bet ODST's. Who else could come in so loud?" Jessica says.

Our cell room is soundproof so we don't hear anything that is happening outside. We are forced to wait in anticipation as our rescuers fight their way into the ship. Or at least that's what we're hoping is happening. The reverberating thuds continue for the next fifteen minutes and are only interrupted when the door comes flying inwards and almost flattens Zeke whom had been standing near it.

The smoke from the charges billows into the room and makes it hard to see as two black armored figures appear with their weapons pointed at us.

"Subjects located," I hear the taller of the two say. His voice is strangly synthetic sounding because of his helmet's voice modulator. The second is slightly smaller and I can tell the Spartan is a female.

"I knew it! Spartans to the rescue once again," Arnold says with a grin as he stands up and puts on his helmet. "Are you unharmed?" the shorter of the two asks us. "Besides the horrible living conditions and the slop? Yeah," 211 says. That's when I spot the white triangle situated on each of the soldier's chestplates and my blood turns to ice. ONI.

I take an involuntary step back as I watch the two Spartans. Kia notices my reaction and quickly understands why. She is on edge as we leave the cramped cell and follow the black-armored Agents into a blood soaked room. Six corpses lay inside, several of whom are mangled beyond recognition. A scorch mark near the entrance shows their shock and awe tactic.

"The ship has been cleared and secured. You will not have to worry about being attacked," the shorter ONI Agent says, looking over her shoulder. "Damn, you guys work fast," 211 says with an appreciative tone. The Agents don't reply but leads us into the waiting arms of the UNSC ship.

Once we enter the ship, the ONI Agents disappear and we never see them again. They had never given us their names or even Spartan numbers. Parkson tells Kia later that he had seen their Prowler leaving the ship shortly after our arrival.

It's a relief to be back with friendlies. But it's even more of a relief to have a cold shower and warm food. The Captain tells us that we are scheduled to rendevouz with the _Faithful_ outside of Planet Reach. Though Zeta tells us that Captain Jameson is planning on giving us R &R when we return.

We don't get much time to think about that, however, because we are informed that we will be making a slipspace travel and we are to be stored in tubes for the trip. I am definitely not thrilled by the news but I strip down and soon find myself surrounded by the cold embrace of a dreamless sleep.


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine

_Dark Memories_

 **0001, October 19th, 2547[MILITARY CALENDAR/] Planet Reach, New Mombasa**

Rumors of the rest we would be given were certainly true. After we were checked in and I filed the battle report, Jameson met with us and explained that the UNSC has agreed to award us with a full month's R&R for our work on the colonist planet. While I felt that it was a failed mission in all aspects, our concerns are brushed aside and we quickly found ourselves packing for our time on the planet below.

Reach is certainly a military hub. The orbital MAC's are a thing to be reckoned with. As we shuttled down to the surface, we passed through heavy radar and even a patrol ship that was making its runs.

Down on the ground, security ran its course and passed us through where we were checked into the planet.

I have never seen such a prosperous and beautiful planet. People bustling about in the cities, transports buzzing overhead, activity everywhere. The surrounding nature Is breathtaking and I find myself focusing more on the mountains than on the surrounding buildings.

I won't bore you with our adventures, but I will tell you that during those thirty-one days we stayed, we learned a lot about civilians and their way of life. In a way, we had a taste for it ourselves. It was a truly relaxing experience.

But at one point, I found myself in a bit of a daze. A little girl with tussled hair and dark pants passed me on the streets with her mother. She looked almost exactly like the one I had met once, years ago. Seeing that nameless girl on the streets brought back those terrible memories that I had banished from my memory. That night, it took me hours to finally go to sleep. But even sleep brought tormented nightmares of the child that changed everything for me.

It was three years ago that we had been assigned to a planet under siege. The Covenant found the planet and it was well on its way to being another one of the burned planets in the Alien military's wake. The air was constantly clouded by both UNSC and Covenant ships as well as the insistent rattle of exchanged weapons fire.

My team and I had fought on the frontlines for weeks until it came down to the very last standing city. The Covenant hadn't found it yet, but were getting close. We were put on escort duty for the Marines that were evacuating the frightened civilians. It wasn't our first time seeing such fear and chaos, so we handled it smoothly and like professionals.

We had been working all day to load the Pelicans, civilian transports, and just about everything that could get into space. When the Covenant finally arrived in the city, we thought we were ready.

We met up with the frontlines soldiers and helped them set up a barricade to repel the first wave of Grunts. A cluster of soldiers had been marching on the city for days instead of flying in due to the AA fire. A line of Warthogs made up the frontmost barricade, using their reinforced armor to protect the ODST's and Marines laying just behind them. A pair of Scorpion battle tanks lay slightly elevated on a dirt hill, pointing into the road, preparing to fire over the ground-soldiers heads. We were just behind the Warthogs, aiming through the firing gaps. 211 situated himself onto a mounted Gauss turret, ready to lay into the hostile soldiers.

When the first wave came, Grunt bodies lay piled high all around the incoming road, dead before they even got close due to the funnel-like shape of the pavement and surrounding hills. It was looking good until the third wave. A phalanx position of Hunters and Wraiths protected Energy Sword wielding Elites who were followed by much heavier infantry. The tanks took the Wraiths and more than half of the Hunters, but by then they were too close.

We fought hard to repel the Elites with the swords, but the covering fire from the Fuel rods was too much and toppled the first barricade and nearly incinerated 211 who had to dive from his vehicle to avoid the barrage. We were quickly overwhelmed and called a retreat before too many were lost.

We stayed behind the fleeing marines and soaked up most of the bullets and provided cover fire. It was a long run to the waiting evacuation Pelicans, but once we made it, we turned down the ride and decided to stay and help fight until the last minute. There were still plenty of civilians to help get out and lots of firefights to break up.

We fought our way through the throng of enemies and responded to numerous calls of help over all channels.

Dead bodies. That's what we were met with. I can guarantee that more than half of the calls died minutes after they went out.

Civilians lay lifeless in the streets, dead where they had gone down. The streets stained red, and not a single dead Covenant soldier to be seen. Sure we broke up skirmishes and helped evacuate UNSC personnel along with a handful of lucky civilians, but we were helpless to save the others.

The sun dipped into the horizon and the burning city was bathed in an orange glow that reached into the stars, crying out in agony from the violent attack. We knew a pull-out would be ordered soon, and each of us dreaded the moment the call went out.

The confrontation with the girl came an hour after sun-down. We had started searching a building for signs of life. I heard the Elite before I saw him. The heavy breathing coming through his closed helmet, and the clanking of its boots on the metal floor echoed carelessly through the halls. It thought it was alone, and it was wrong.

We tailed it for a good two minutes before a new sound appeared. The Elite laughed and we heard a small scuffling noise against what sounded like a vent, then there was a scream. The scream was shrill and startled each of us.

I happened to peek around the cover of the open doorway to see a tiny body being pulled out of an air vent, the host's leg attached to the scaled hand of the Elite.

Waiting to see what was happening, I kept my breath even and prayed that my visor wouldn't reflect any hint of light. I felt my hand brushing my Assault Rifle once the Elite picked the girl up and turned her to face him. The little girl had to be only six years old. Her dark hair fell in straight lines that were only interrupted by frazzled strands that seemed to illustrate the fear she felt.

I reacted without thinking once the Energy Sword flashed to life and illuminated both of them in its deadly glow. The Assault Rifle in my hands was held tightly in my arms as I hurled myself out of the shadowed doorway and straight into the Elite. He didn't even have to time react as I knocked him over and quickly turned the barrel of my gun on him.

He roared in surprise and scrambled backwards, his shields flaring, before standing up. He hadn't lost the grip on his sword and the Elite swiped it at my chest. I side-stepped around it and lunged at its chest, knocking the eight foot giant off-balance. 211 took the advantage and was right behind me with his shotgun. I could feel the weapon's blast as it slammed into the alien's armor and knocked him flat on its back where I stepped on his chest and finished him off with a brief burst of lead.

After reloading my weapon and checking on the other Spartans, I turned my attention to the child who was standing where the Elite had dropped her, looking positively terrified of the suited strangers who had appeared out of nowhere.

"What's your name?" I asked the girl, trying to sound as friendly as I could. "Anna," she answered hesitantly. "We're with the UNSC, Anna. And we're here to get you out. Where are you parents?" I asked her. She just shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears. "It's alright, we'll keep you safe," Kia says, and crouched down next to the girl with a gloved hand on her shoulder. "Who are you? Are you the ones with the space ships that drop from the sky?" she asked. "My daddy used to be one."

Knowing that she was referring to an ODST, I only shook my head. "We're different from them, Anna. But we want to save you, just like they would," I told her. That seemed to satisfy the little girl because she only nodded. "Now, stay behind my team and do as they say, okay? They'll keep you safe."

We radio in to the UNSC transports and found out that the nearest evac zone was fifteen minutes away. Having no other choice, we took the chance and begun making our way towards them.

The streets were eerily silent. Not even the sounds of gunfire reached them. Only the occasional crackling of a rogue fire, or the dying alarm of a civilian vehicle filled the empty roads. I suddenly felt bad for the little girl following closely behind me. She was silent as we passed by corpses of civilians who never stood a chance. The occasional military body sat mangled on the side, or in a vehicle, as well. I found her tiny hands holding onto my leg, grasping tightly to me in fear.

I heard a commotion up ahead and signaled to the others to stay put. I creep up ahead and found a pack of Jackals squabbling over a torn up corpse. The ugly bird hybrids carried basic Covenant infantry weapons. Needlers and Plasma Pistols. Fearing the hidden support of snipers, though, I slipped back and informed the others.

"I didn't see anyone else. They're likely just a rogue group. I don't want to take chances, though. Parkson, Kia, set up behind the first set of cars and watch the buildings for enemy support. 211, you stay with Anna. I'll take care of the Jackals we can see," I said and turn to Anna. "211 will take care of you. We'll be back soon."

The three of us move out and quickly took up position. The Jackals were still there fighting over the scraps. There were six of them. The colorful quills on their heads provided excellent markers in the deep shadows of the surrounding buildings. I switched to the Pistol on my thigh and took the safety off. I then gestured to the two Spartans behind me and counted to three before popping out of cover.

My first target went down hard. Before his body could even hit the pavement, the second and third Jackal found bullets penetrating their skulls. The last three Jackals screeched and scattered. Two didn't find cover in time and dropped with bullets in their bodies. The third managed to turn on his shield and avoid being shot. The round that was meant to kill bounced harmlessly off of the device. It crouched behind the shield and I could see the Plasma Pistol beginning to overcharge and knew I needed to end it before he made me vulnerable.

I took a grenade from my belt and rolled it hard so it came to a stop right next to the Jackal's foot. It had no choice but to dive to avoid being blasted. I quickly take advantage of this action and kill the alien in mid-roll.

A purple glare just above my line of vision made me lurch back into cover and narrowly avoid the deadly blast of a Beam Rifle. I turned my head to look at my Spartans who were watching over the car to find the sniper.

"Multiple contacts. Seventeenth floor balcony," Kia called out. Parkson flashed his acknowledgement light and I could see him moving ever so slightly to fix his barrel's gaze on one of the snipers.

Parkson shot two bullets, one right after the other, and signed two Kia for his kills. "Two remaining," Kia reported. I could see her focusing and waiting, until a few seconds passed and she killed both of her targets. "All clear," she called, appearing from behind the vehicle.

211 approached us with the girl and she instantly came to my side and held my hand, clutching it as tightly as a scared little girl could. "Looks like you've got an attachment, eh?" 211 said with a teasing tone. I just looked down at the girl and returned her grasp, assuring her that she would be okay. "Yeah. Lets get moving," I said and lead the way past the alien corpses.

It wasn't long after that when the evac zone came into view. Four Pelicans were parked side-by-side with marines rushing in between them like working ants. Civilians were loaded into them and just about ready to take off.

I could see the relief in Anna's eyes once a Marine turned to us to usher us in. But we never got inside of the gates.

I heard the Seraph before I saw it. It was an all too familiar sound that reached into my gut. I instinctively grabbed Anna and threw her under me seconds before the Seraph swooped down and unleashed is payload.

Flames spewed over my back and debris came inches from colliding into us. The explosion was unbelievably loud. It drowned out any thought other than primitive instinct. I clutched Anna tightly, afraid the the explosion would engulf her if I let go.

When the fire and chaos was done, my shields began to recharge and I rose off of the shocked child.

I made sure Anna was okay before checking on my Spartans. They checked out, aside from some scratches and burns, and I finally looked back at the evac zone.

Flames and debris met my gaze. No one survived the plasma blast. No one except for us. There was a charred body almost right next to me, and I made Anna look away.

I called for another evac zone, but no one answered. All I heard was silence. Silence over a channel that had once been filled with voices. It was ominous, and it was terrifying because I knew we were alone. No one would help us now. But that's what we have been trained for.

"We still have the Pelican a few klicks out of the city. We have to assume it's still there," Kia said, breaking the silence. "Lets move," I simply say. I reach down and pick the girl up, carrying her with both of my arms. I drop back and let 211 take the lead. I hold her head against my armor and keep her as safe as I can.

We made our way through the winding roads and across carnage covered streets. Charred husks of what once was layed with their insides bared for the world to see. A world that would soon go up in flames. Just like all of the others. I suddenly felt emotional for this girl. Her entire world was gone, everyone she knew was dead, and aliens had tried to kill her. I knew I felt a strong responsibility to get her out of it all. To help her survive to live a long life. She would outlast us all, and I knew it. Sometimes hardships like this make you hard as steel, if you let it.

We come across an obstacle when we reached the edge of the city. A barricade of enemies blocked the road with a Wraith and two Shade turrets as well as a plethora of ground troops. We knew there was no way we could get passed it, so we decided to take the chance and go around.

This plan would mean going _through_ several buildings and finding a back exit to freedom. We would need to be on constant watch for enemies patrolling the inside. But due to the dangerous nature of this whole thing, I had to let Anna walk on her own. She trailed closely behind me, not wanting to leave in fear of ending up like everyone else.

We ran into very little opposition. A few single Grunts and some bored Jackals, but no Elites. Our luck held until the very last building.

With our fingers on the trigger and our eyes watching every shadow, we advanced through the building. I was aware of the growing dread in the pit of my stomach, but I pushed it aside to keep my senses focused.

The others have always told me I have an un-natural sense to see something invisible, to catch the slight distortion that flickers in a half of a second, to react to it like no other. But I think they are wrong. If that was true, then I wouldn't have lost her.

It all happened so fast. She was ripped away from me and held into the air by her throat. A shiver passed through the air and Anna suddenly seized up as two glowing blades stuck out of her chest. A four fingered hand emerged from thin air. Attached to it was a black armored Elite, another one with a closed helmet. The Elite then threw her body from his blade, and time seemed to come to a crawl as I watched the tiny lifeless form crumple to the ground with two holes straight through her body.

I was the first to react. I grabbed my own sword on my thigh and blindly charged the Elite with it activated. The Elite parried my first swing, but never saw the combat blade in my other hand. It buried itself past the hilt in his neck as I lunged viciously for him. I ripped the blade free and looked at his body in a blind rage. 211's call broke me out of it and I remember going to her body. Kia checked her vital signs...and pronounced her dead on the spot.

I didn't have time for mourning. We were still in a combat zone, and the Elite could have somehow alerted the others. I did not take the body, but I did free the brightly colored bracelet from her wrist and stow it in my pocket.

We escaped that doomed city and found our Pelican still waiting for us. Parkson kept the ramp down for a long time as we circled the city to let us watch the Cruisers drop from the clouds and cover its entirety with glass. I watched even as he pulled away and ascended into the heavens. It was only when Kia gently pulled me back that I finally sat down. I felt numb. I wasn't tired, I wasn't sad, I wasn't happy. I was numb. Too much had just happened. Too much. I didn't want to think about it.

I had my first dose of how cruel the war is that day. I had seen colonies glassed, I had seen families run for cover, I had seen enough death to last multiple life-times. But never have I seen something that gave you hope, gave you reason, only to rip it away and laugh mercilessly as it left you an emotional wreck. You know, it's bad to have someone die. But it's cruel to not let that person mourn in an appropriate way. It tears that person up from the constantly bottled emotions. It leaves deep scars that will never heal.

I know I changed that day. Looking back, I was too serious. I didn't allow myself to relax and have fun in any way. I guess it gave me a new lease on life. You see, you can take death in two forms. You can let it drag you into a dark emotional abyss of depression, or you can savour the light and make it part of your soul. I chose the latter, and let it make me who I am today.


	31. Chapter Thirty

_Away to Distant Mountains_

 **1914, December 12th, 2547 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Colonist planet, Turfor City**

Sooner than we know it, our resting time is up and we're thrown right back into the fray.

Our next mission is a city about ready to be in trouble from the Covenant. It's a distant colony that would normally not call upon the UNSC for help.

They gave specific instructions, though. They specifically asked for two teams of ODST's but no Marines. Our superiors suspect that they don't want too many UNSC people on their turf.

But instead of two teams of ODST's, they will be sending a single team of ODST's and two additional teams of Spartans.

Zeta and my team were chosen for this task, given our experience with distant missions. We were told to be ready for a two month trip in cryo-sleep and an additional few days fighting on the planet. Jameson told us to obey the Colonist leaders as much as we could, but to still stay on edge. We all found it suspicious that they weren't telling us what was going on. While we are still ready to give us help, we need to be aware of a possible trap.

With these warnings in our heads, we meet up with the UNSC _Fading Aurora_ and get a tour from the Captain himself. We are instructed to leave our armor behind in an assigned storage bay because not many people are aware of the Spartan presence yet. We are used to this treatment, and readily obey.

The warship holds a heavy arsenal both inside and outside of its hull. Alongside its Navy crew, the single team of fifteen ODST's are stationed inside of a barracks room. The ship itself is rather large, but its insides are cramped and short.

We also meet the AI assigned to the _Fading Aurora_. He's a "dumb" AI by the name of Amsterdam. He runs the extra systems and would plot weapon trajectories if we get into a fight. He's both a convenience and an important piece of technology.

After the tour, we strip and ready ourselves for the long trip to the planet. I find my anxiety getting to me once I see the tubes, but force myself to be strong and enter it without any complaints. My breathing slows once the hatch shuts and the air temperature fogs my thoughts. Soon enough, I am plunged into a dreamless sleep, to be eventually woken at the doctor's expense.

Once I am finally revived, I find myself lurching forwards and slamming into the partially thawed glass. Seeing as how it was still mostly frozen, my body smashes right through the fragile material and I end up on my hands and knees trying not to vomit all over myself. The doctors help me up and explain that the ship is being attacked and we had to be unceremoniously thawed. A commanding ODST had greeted us on the scene and tells me that we'll be dropping in with the SOIV's from orbit as soon as we're suited.

After regaining my bearings, I look around to see the other Spartans emerging from their tubes, looking groggy and half-awake. "Spartans, no time for wake-up. The ship's under attack and we're needed with the ODST's," I tell the others. The hull bucks underneath our feet from a particularly heavy hit and nearly throws us to our feet. "Let me guess, insertion?" Arnold asks, stretching his arms to shake out the lasting effects of the freeze. "SOIV's," I say, watching the seven other Spartans wake up. "Time's wasting. The longer we stand here, the more civilians that are killed," Zeke says and rushes out of the room. We follow after him and are suited, armed, and ready in the ODST drop room within ten minutes.

The Commander greets the eight of us once we see the SOIV's. "How many of you have been in these before?" He asks, cradling his helmet under his arm. "These four haven't," Jacobs says, jerking a thumb towards my team and I. The Commander nods and places his helmet on his head. "Not much to be prepared for. Get in, close the hatch, hold on to your asses, and try not to die," he says. He then turns around and readies with his men.

I approach an empty drop-pod, grab a side-bar, and swing myself into the seat. The pod shudders at the weight of my armor and I momentarily think that it will break free of the clamps. The pod holds and I watch as the others ready themselves in their own SOIV's.

" _Prepare for launch_ ," a voice calls over the pod's speakers. With that warning, I close the hatch and turn on the systems. Zeke and the ODST Commander's face appears on two separate screens on either side of my vision, their helmets filling the screen. "The light is green, Marines. Semper Fi!" the Commander says right before the clamps are released and we are ejected through the launch tube and out into space.

There is a moment of inertia right before the massive planet comes into view, alongside a fleet of Covenant ships and flaring plasma missiles sizzling in the air around us. I hold tight into the grips inside of the pod and grit my teeth as I watch the other pods around me plummet into the planet's orbit.

"Cruiser coming up at a 90 degree angle. I suggest Pods three, eight, and six redirect course to avoid becoming roadkill," The ODST commander says through the vehicles communications system.

I realize too late that I am one of the ones he had warned, and look out of the window to see the cruiser speeding up at me. I take the manual control and aim for the swooping ring on the side of the ship. I release the controls and let the momentum and trajectory guide me through the tiny gap, and safely below the Cruiser where I drop out of its firing range before it even knew what had just happened.

The Pod is incredibly hot by now. The planet below is obscured by a fiery red haze as the temperature sky-rockets and makes me feel as if I'm boiling alive. My concerns are shifted when a group of Banshees set their deadly sights on our group and decide to drop the flies from the sky.

"Enemy fire! Enemy fire!" one of the ODST's frantically calls. I watch as a Banshee releases is payload and swoops away. The green missile slams into the side of a pod and the vehicle disintergrates in a gout of fire. "Keep on target!" The commander calls from within his own pod far below us, leading the charge. The insistent fire from the Banshees rains down on my pod, but miraculously I'm not hit. Another ODST isn't so fortunate, however. A flurry of rapid bursts from the Banshee's main guns blisters the hull and shreds the side. I can briefly see the ODST inside before the vehicle tumbles widly off-course where it eventually bursts into flames as the wreckage falls at an uncontrolled rate.

"Shit. I'm hit!" 211 yells over the communications channel. "I've lost my breaks. Damn it."

I glance over at 211's pod and see the useless propellers hanging over the top of his SOIV once he had tried to deploy them. "Lock your armor and brace for impact. We'll meet up once our boots hit dirt," I tell the Spartan. "Roger that, Jackson. Lets just hope the Covies don't have another idea, eh?"

His pod falls out of view as I slow my descent using the propellers. The fire consuming the bottom of the pod dissapates, but the metal is still searing hot.

A last-second bombing run by the Banshees leaves Zeta's pods spiraling out of control in separate directions that are wildly off-course to our LZ. "New landing conditions, Zeta. Prepare for a rough entry," Zeke says calmly. "Not this again! It happens every damn time," Arnold exclaims. I glance down to see his IFF tag way below us and spinning crazily. "Oh boy. Brace for impact, Zeta!" Jacobs says with a chuckle. "We'll meet up later, Jackson. Advance without us," Zeke says, his tone strained. I can only grit my teeth in frustration and nod obediently. "Alright. Good luck," I reply.

The ground is very suddenly rushing up at me once I break through the cloud layer. I brace for the landing, as we were taught, and get ready for a bone jarring impact.

The hit comes swift and fast. My knees seem to go through my chest and it feels as if my head had just been slammed into the ground. But ignoring the sensation, I break out of my restraints and instantly leave the pod with my weapon drawn.

I had knocked out three Grunts with my landing, but two Elites still remain and have already begun firing on me. I return the favor and unload my entire AR clip into their shields before finishing them off.

The ground reverberates with repetitive thuds as the other Pods drop seconds after I do. I glance out of the corner of my eye to see the ODST's emerging from their battered pods, half disoriented. Zeta, however, emerges seemingly without discomfort and helps secure the perimeter.

"Where did 211 hit?" I ask Kia as she approaches me. "Half a mile out. If he's still alive, he should be here within ten minutes," Kia responds.

"We're two men down, sir. Xaxio and Frank bit it. No other casualties or injuries," I hear one of the ODST's report to the commander. "Good. Get Fizer and James watching our backs. We march on the courtyard in fifteen," The commander says and turns to me. "Your soldier has got fourteen minutes until he is left behind. No exceptions, Spartan."

I nod to him and look out towards the outer zone where 211 must have landed. "He'll be here sooner than that, sir. You won't have to wait on us," I tell him and take one last glance at the sky before meeting up with Kia who begins to discuss the battle plans.

"Recon reports from the snipers tells us that there are a pair of Hunters with an Elite General. We've got footsoldiers abundant and a single known sniper emplacement by this balcony here. Commander Yeiyen said that we will need to secure the Courtyard for an LZ," Kia says, showing me a holographic map as she speaks. Parkson approaches us and slings his gun as he begins to sign to Kia. "Alright. Parkson said that the Mayor is nearby and wants to meet with us once we secure the area. I'm willing to assume that it's about the situation down here, you?" the female Spartan asks, looking up at me. "Yeah. That's a safe bet. We'll find out soon once 211 gets back," I reply.

Six minutes later, 211 appears from the rear. His armor is specked with alien blood and he has a crack running through his visor. "Long story, don't ask," he says, waving his hand. "What's our objective?"

I jerk my chin towards the buildings that shield the wide courtyard just beyond. "We are clearing an LZ for the incoming colonist troops. The Mayor said he wants to speak with us," I answer and call to the Commander. "Sir! We're ready to move out."

After rallying his soldiers, the Commander moves all of us up to the Courtyard. "Hold up, Commander," I say and approach him. "My team and I will flank around and hit them from the rear. Once we've started, you join in," I say. The Commander doesn't look at all pleased by this. "And what makes you think they don't be ready for that?" he says, his tone almost challenging. "With all due respect, sir, we've done this before," I answer. He looks about ready to argue again, but decides against it and doesn't protest when I move my team into the alleyway behind the courtyard.

I map out a route to a balcony that overlooks the area below and lead my team through a series of blasted holes and crumbling staircases. To my surprise, there are a few Jackals sleeping in the wide room just before the balcony. The others had seen them at the same time and stop quietly and wait for orders.

The plan is that Parkson will throw a frag, count to five, and go inside and take out the Jackals on the right. Kia will follow by taking down the group on the left. 211 and I will kill the stragglers.

The plan goes down without a hitch, and soon we're standing in a room full of bodies. The plan had also drawn the attention I was hoping for and over a dozen heads turn towards our section of the buildings.

Orders are thrown and soldiers move out to check out the source of the noise.

211 stations himself right next to the staircase leading to the level below. Parkson is across from him and Kia crouches right across from it with her Sniper rifle, ready to pop the head off of the first thing that enters.

I count off the minutes as we wait in tense silence, and stop at one and a half once the muzzle flash of 211's shotgun fills the room and rams buckshot into the bulky chest of an Elite Minor.

The body flies back and nearly flattens the group of Grunts who scream in terror as Parkson chucks down a grenade which bounces off of the wall and hurtles down the stairs, eventually detonating with a strong vibration that shakes the walls.

The crack of Kia's Rifle is nearly deafening once an Elite with a sword comes charging up the steps, taking them by the threes. His body is thrown back to reveal a third partner whom also meets the same fate. Finally, the enemies below get the hint and stop storming the stairs. At this point, I give the ODST Commander the go-ahead and wait for the other end to light up.

Once it does, I have 211 and Kia take the steps and have Parkson come with me to the balcony.

Parkson nods to a shut window and proceeds to kick it out. The shattered glass falls away from his boot and falls onto the balcony's floor where it crunches underfoot.

Parkson takes out a large grenade and chucks it over, arcing it perfectly so that it lands in the middle of a phalanx of Jackals. The splash hits a nearby Elite and I don't hesitate to quickly gun him down.

The ODST's storm into the courtyard and fan out around the perimeter, effectively trapping the Covenant inside a tight ring of gunfire. They put up a good fight, and three of the ODST's are gunned down. But in the end, all that is left are the two stubborn Hunters who fight back-to-back, valiantly holding off the tightening circle around them.

An ODST by the name of L. Miller produces a Rocket Launcher and empties the tubes into the exposed back of the second Hunter. Already having been damaged, the hulking creature is shredded by the highly explosive missiles and goes down with a final cry.

This doesn't bode well with its bond brother who gives an anguished cry and charges the nearest ODST's, nearly squashing one with its shield. The soldiers are forced back by its suicidal attacks and are just about pushed out of the Courtyard.

I hear thunder echoing behind me and turn around to see 211 charging at the door, going full-tilt. I can only get out of his way as he sprints through the door, vaults the balcony's edge, and falls the two stories straight to the ground. The sound of his body impacting to the ground startles everyone. But he had landed on his feet and hardly even lost momentum.

I watched, transfixed, as the Spartan closes the several yards to the distracted Hunter and suddenly launches himself into the air. With his free arm outstretched, 211 lands on the monster's back and secures his feet on its spines. It begins to thrash in rage before 211 empties his mag into the alien. Large gouts of orange intestines spray from the creature as it takes the hits. With a final blow from the butt of 211's gun, the Hunter topples and hits the ground with a thud.

211 jumps off, reloads his shotgun, looks up at me, and laughs. "Hunter hunted, am I right?" he says, obviously pleased with himself. I can't help but crack a smile at my crazed teammate and shake my head. "You could say that," I reply.

After a final sweep of the grounds, we set up an LZ and call in the waiting birds.

Five minutes later, four Pelicans drop from the sky and land in the open area. They unload their cargo and the colonist soldiers fill the area with weapons at the ready. After they do their own sweep, the Mayor steps out and approaches us with a sort of swagger authority figures tend to get. His expression tells us all that we need to know, he is pissed.

"What is the meaning of this? I specifically requested _two_ Orbital Shock Troopers. Who are you, and what are you doing here?" he demands, directly approaching me. I look down at the man and put on my public-dealing-face to avoid destroying an already fragile situation. "We are adding extra precautions, sir. We did not want to send too many of our men into an unknown situation," I say. His face turns beet red and I can see 211 stiffling a laugh. "You think that I would lead your men to die?! Who do you think I am? I am not a traitor! If I wanted to kill any of you, I would have shot you out of the sky," the man growls.

"We don't mean any disrespect, it's just a precaution," I say, getting very annoyed at this point. And as the Mayor goes off on some rant I'm not listening to, 211 switches off his outer speakers and chuckles to us. "How can you take him seriously, Jackson? He looks like a fire hydrant. I wouldn't be surprised to see water bursting out of his ears any minute now," 211 says. "Plus he's so short. The tiny bastard doesn't even reach your chest!"

I smirk a little at this and am glad that I'm wearing a helmet, because that would have set him off again and I think the Mayor is starting to cool off a bit now. At least I think he is. I haven't been listening.

I finally tune back in to what the man is saying once he mentions the goal of our presence here.

"I doubt any of you simpletons would know, but we are at war. We want to take back our planet and avoid evacuation at all costs. I asked for only a small infantry team because the people here would be very upset with a bigger military influence," The mayor says, pausing for a moment.

"So what you're saying is, your people would rather die in a futile struggle rather than accept help winning a fairly easy battle?" 211 interrupts. The Mayor is obviously flabbergasted by this sudden accusation and struggles to find a response. "That is _not_ what I said! We simply don't want-" the man starts, but 211 cuts him off again.

"You want go on struggling. Got it," the Spartan says, nodding his head. The Mayor, with face as red as a Tomato, steps right up to 211 and glares at his visor. Seeing as how 211 is nearly eight feet tall, and the mayor barely clears five feet, it's a funny thing to see. "If you don't drop the attitude, you'll find yourself dying in a hole in the ground!" The mayor hisses.

That does it for me. No one threatens my teammates. _No one._

In the span of only a second, I unsheathe my knife, grab the Mayor by his throat, and shove him into a wall, but am careful to not break any of his bones. "Threaten any of my teammates again, and _you'll_ be the one slowly dying in a hole. Got it?" I snarl. My combat knife presses dangerously close to his neck. I keep it off of his skin, but have it so that I could easily end him if he chose to rebel.

Being the semi-smart man that he is, the Mayor vigourously nods and struggles to agree with me. I drop the short man and turn to see more than half of the colonist soldiers with their weapons trained on us. 211, Parkson, and Kia had all drawn their weapons as well and are watching the soldiers tensely.

Dragging himself back up to his feet, the Mayor waves down the soldiers and takes a moment before re-addressing me in a much calmer manner. "There are several areas of interest that may serve to drive the Covenant off of the surface. One of these places we have been unable to infiltrate. It is a hydroelectric power plant located just off of the southern coast. It was used to provide power to an array of machines in the local area before the Covenant invaded. Now they have re-routed the power and are using it to fuel something big. By the reports from our scouts, we believe it is a Scarab. It would be a crippling blow to their movement if it was taken out. I expect you to accomplish this task, UNSC. I can give you the resources needed, if you wish," the Mayor says.

"Weapons and vehicles would be nice," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "Talk to Sergeant Gerrid about getting your supplies, then. I wish you good luck," the Mayor says and walks away. After he is gone, I look at the others and Kia subtly shakes her head. "I don't like this. Something's up, and it feels bad," she says. Parkson signs to Kia and she translates for him. "He agrees. Says the Mayor is hiding something."

211 just shrugs once I look at him and I have to think a moment before concluding my decision. "If something is wrong, we can't just leave a potential danger. Lets just keep our guard up and be ready for anything unexpected. We'll inform the Commander of our worries once we get going," I tell them.

After gearing up in their suspiciously impressive armory, we secure two Pelicans and begin to move out.

But as I am heading back for the bird, i catch a sillohuete watching me from a rooftop. Once I stop and look at it, the figure suddenly launches itself off of the three story roof. The person falls for a few moments and I think someone had just committed suicide. But seconds before the person hits, a jetpack fires and slows the impact until the Spartan lands gently on the ground.

Three other Spartans follow in the same manner and I find myself staring into the helmets of Fireteam Zeta. "What took you guys so long?" I ask them, finally relaxing and letting out a held breath. "Hiking fourteen miles takes a while, my friend," Arnold replies. "Sorry to scare you, Jackson. Just a few precautions is all," Zeke says. I cock my head and ask, "Precautions? For what?"

Zeke just pats me on the shoulder and jogs for the second Pelican, his team following closely behind.

It was originally planned that my team would take a Pelican separate from the ODST's, but Zeta decides on taking the second bird and stuffing us inside with the ODST's. We don't complain, and after a short pre-flight check, we're up and on our way to the plant.

With Parkson as the pilot, and 211 as his co-pilot, I am left with Kia in the trooper bay with the rest of the ODST team. I am reminded of my earlier years, being cramped in a Pelican with a full compliment of sweaty, ill-tempered marines, and have to shake my head at the thought. Back then, I didn't even know how much they were afraid of us because I was too naive. Now I fully understand the fears and distrust almost everybody harbors for us Spartan-II's. It's easy to deal with now and I just go around their emotions when on the field. Soldiers' emotions only go so far when you're being shot at.

We land a mile away from the plant because of the AA firepower surrounding the immediate area.

After a short trek, we approach the base and find surprisingly little guards around the front and rear entrances. Zeta comes up with a plan to approach from both ends. Zeta will be going in the back and we will storm the entrance with the ODST's.

There are two shade emplacements on the left and right with a full compliment of Jackals and Grunts. It strikes me as strange that there aren't any Elites to oversee the security and I make a mental note to do an extra sweep after the initial attack.

After scouting out the base, I look to the rest of the soldiers. "About twenty hostile contacts and two Shade emplacements. No Elites so far, so keep an eye out for them," I tell them and shift my gaze to the waiting Commander. "Any thoughts, sir?"

The ODST commander rolls his shoulders and pumps his shotgun, loading the shells into its chamber. "Give 'em hell!" A chorus of cheers follow this statement and it is then that we are ready for the attack.

While Zeta sneaks around the back, we pull distraction and storm the front gates. Kia had stayed up on the hill and, when signaled, drops the gunners of the shade turrets.

With those guns taken out, we are free to engage the enemy.

The Jackals with shields are the first to react and form a strong barricade on the front steps. With their impenetrable shields and constant barrage of plasma, it's hard to take them out. That is until 211 makes a mad dash for one of the Shade turrets. He swings himself into the seat and turns it on the line of enemies that had just realized what was going on behind them.

From on top of his vantage point, 211 rains hell on the Jackals. The plasma rounds thud into the cement and pepper the surface with bright purple impact points. The few Jackals that managed to jump out of the way of the Shade's plasma and the following lead barrage direct their fire at 211 and force him to abandon the turret before it blows up.

He rejoins Parkson and I behind a set of barricades, panting and laughing. "That was fun!" he says. "You're going to get killed one of these days by doing that," I say and lean around the barricade to throw a grenade into a throng of Grunts. "And it will _so_ be worth it!" he laughs.

Once the numbers of enemies have dwindled, all three of us emerge from our cover and gun down the remaining few. I give the all-clear to Kia and she comes down from the hill with her Rifle slung across her back.

The ODST's clear the door and the immediate room within. Having gotten the all-clear from the Commander, we proceed inside. The air is much more humid in here and reminds me of when we were on the sea with Zeta.

Almost immediately after entering the room, Zeke contacts me through the TEAMCOM. "We've found the majority group. They're on the floor of a tunnel located near the rear of the facility. We won't proceed until you've arrived. We may need help to clear them" the squad leader says. "We still haven't located the Scarab yet. No signs of it. I think the Mayor might have been lying," Jacobs says. "We'll meet up with you soon. Blue team out," I say and cut the channel.

The creeping suspicion that the Mayor is up to something only grows with Zeta's report. But once again, I shove those thoughts aside and focus on the mission at hand.

The building is large and confusing. It's like a maze. But thanks to Kia's navigating, we find Zeta with no troubles. They are waiting behind a thick wall and looking over their battle plan.

"Tunnel's just inside," Zeke says, nodding towards the other door. I look to the ODST's and quickly come up with a plan of attack. "Commander, you and your men take up the front. We'll come up on your flank and cover your blind spots. If this goes well, it will be over in a few seconds," I tell the ODST. He has no arguments and waits for the order. "Kia, Parkson, I need you two up on the balcony. Make sure we're not side-swiped." The two Spartans nod and move out to reach the balcony in time. "We're going outside to secure the front entrance. We want a smooth exit, after all," Zeke says. "That's a good idea. Report back when the area's clear," I say. The Spartan team leaves and I can hear the distant rattle of gunfire as they fight back the enemies.

We then turn to the huge steel double doors that are securely locked. An ODST technician had been working on it while we were talking and had just gotten done. "Ready when you are," he says. I take out my Assault Rifle, check its bullets, and nod to the soldier.

Once the doors come open, we storm inside. The aliens never stood a chance. I walk as I shoot and find at least five Elites in my crosshairs for just a few seconds until they're gunned down. It's a smooth and effective operation. That is, until we hear movement on the other end of the tunnel.

A quick glance shows us the source of the noise. An entire attack force is storming up the wide entrance. Wraiths, Hunters, Elites, and Ghosts.

"Form up, Marines! We've got one helluva fight coming up," the Commander says to his soldiers. "Maybe not," 211 says and taps my shoulder. I look at him and follow his finger which is pointed upwards. My gaze is drawn to several large tubes directly overhead. The insides of them look water damaged. I look down at my feet and notice the fact that the tube is noticably smooth and built to move a certain liquid substance. Water. We're standing in the overflow drain.

"Kia, is there a control room nearby?" I ask the female Spartan. She is quiet a moment as she searches her blueprints and confirms that there is one on their level. "Perfect. You're going to need to flood this tunnel, Kia. Once we're out, shut the door and let those Covie bastards have what's coming to them," I tell the Spartan. She can only chuckle devilshly at this idea and immediately sets out for the control room.

"Alright, Marines. We're getting out of here. Get behind the door, we're flooding the tunnel," I say and back into the room we had just come from.

The alien attack team had gotten too close, and we find ourselves being barraged with plasma from the footsoldiers alongside the occasional morter fire from the Wraiths. We desperately fight them off and keep them from getting inside as Kia works on the overflow.

Just as an Elite throws a grenade, the doors bang shut and the Grenade thumps into it, detonating soon after and shaking the walls. "Alright boys, hold on to your hats. It's about to get wet," Kia says.

A distant rumbling fills the room and a few ODST's instinctively look upwards. They look a little distressed as the rumbling grows louder, but none of us are expecting the explosion that comes instantly after.

Judging from the intense rumbling and rushing that comes from the flooded tunnel, it's hard to believe anything survived that. The ODST's begin to cheer and celebrate the death of the attack force. I am even beginning to smile as well, but that is quickly broken once Kia comes over the TEAMCOM demanding help.

"Jackson! Get your ass up here NOW! Hunters got inside and Parkson is down. I think he's got a concussion," Kia says and pauses for a moment. An explosion echoes through the channel and I hear her grunt. "...I can't be sure, though. Just...get up here!"

I jerk my chin towards the stairs and 211 immediately gets going, shotgun held firmly in his hands. "We're coming. Hold on," I say and follow behind the other Spartan.

A handful of ODST's follow right behind us and arrive right behind us as we enter into the control room.

Two Hunters stand near the middle of the room and I see Parkson slumped over a console, blood flowing from a large crack in his visor and a dented chestplate.

The Hunter attacking Kia roars and charges the Spartan. She jumps to the side but had miscalculated the momentum and lands on her side, helpless only for a second. But a second is all the hulking creature needs. It whips around with its shield-arm held out and brings it down on Kia. The Spartan rolls aside, but isn't fast enough. I can hear the crack as the beast's shield crushes her left arm, completely pulverizing the armor and rendering her arm utterly useless.

The shriek of agony that follows is unbearable. She scrambles away from the beast, her arm dragging as she backs away. 211 once again charges the hunter and slams into the back of it with his shotgun. The barrel of the weapon sinks into the leathery skin and 211 pulls the trigger. The buckshot blows the beast apart, splattering every surface in the orange worms.

The second hunter, enraged by the loss of its bond-brother, roars and blindly charges 211 who deftly dodges aside, letting me take some shots at the exposed skin. The ODST's follow suit and the Hunter is down within a few seconds.

"Uh oh. Jackson, I need biofoam, NOW," 211 yells after going to Kia's side. I take my canister and toss it to him. He jams the nozzle onto the wound and sprays it as well as he can. "Holy shit...It hurts," Kia gasps, clutching her weapon in a death grip. "We're getting you out of here, Kia. Just hold on," 211 says and picks her up.

"He got hit hard, sir. I've patched him up as good as I can, but he's going to need stitches," the field medic says, crouching next to Parkson with a medical kit in hand. He had removed his helmet to reveal a bloodied head. Parkson's red hair is matted with blood and looks serious. "We're moving out, everyone! Get back to the Pelicans," I say and hold Parkson in my arms and leave the building.

"What the hell happened?" Zeke asks as we exit the facility. "Hunter ambush. We got set up, Zeke. The damn Mayor is a traitor," I snarl. "I thought as much," Zeke says and turns to the ODST Commander. "This mission is scrubbed. Get your men loaded up, we're out of here."

We leave the planet post-haste, not bothering to report back to the traitor. We never do find that Scarab. But I'm assuming he was just lying to get us to fall into his trap.

The Captain meets us once we dock and is surprised to see half of my team in critical condition. We explain to him what happened and I can tell it didn't come as a surprise to him.

"After you dropped in, the Covie ships ran into slipspace. I thought something was off, but I let you run your op. God...I'm sorry I did," he says, shaking his head. "You couldn't have known, sir. All we can do is report this back to headquarters and hope that the bastard is dealt with," I say angrily. "Agreed. Now go get some rest. It's going to be a long trip back, Spartan," The Captain says and leaves us to ourselves.

A few hours later, I'm in my casual clothing reading a book Parkson had lent me. It was some story about a haunted mine that was actually intriguing. But I found myself unable to focus on the book and instead thinking about Kia's condition.

After a few hours of surgery, Kia's arm was inevitably amputated. They severed it at the joint because the Hunter completely destroyed the entire arm. But they said the surgery was a complete success and Kia is now in recovery, waking up under heavy sedation.

As for Parkson, he had no long-lasting effects from the concussion and had to have twenty stitches to seal his head back up. 211 teased him that the hit might have knocked his speech back into him. Parkson obviously thought that was funny.

But all of us are worrying about our teammate in recovery. I can't stop thinking about what will happen to her future in the military. I am terrified for her that she will be stuck behind a desk somewhere far behind friendly lines pushing pencils for a living. But 211 jokes that maybe it will teach her to be more patient. I tell him that it would never happen.

The Captain says that she might be able to get a prosthetic replacement if the UNSC will coorperate. But even if she can, it will be months before she's combat-ready again. It's a hope that I have to hold on to. I just can't stand the thought of losing a member of my team. We're a family, and losing a family member would be devastating.

For the long ride home, though, we can only assist her in her physical therapy and give her the company and motivation to continue on.


	32. Chapter Thirty-one

_Prosthetic Adjustments_

 **1203, January 21st, 2548 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Aboard UNSC Faithful, en route to Planet Reach**

It was a calm and uneventful return to UNSC controlled space. We passed the time by helping Kia with her recovery and sparring with Zeta.

We meet back up with Jameson aboard his ship and briefly talk with him. He tells us that while our request for a prosthetic is being processed, we would be staying on Planet Reach in temporary military housing. After our last adventure, this is welcome news and we each take it in great stride.

We are reunited with Parkson's engineer, _Nervous Flotation_ , and he spends the majority of the time learning and talking with his alien friend. We learn that the Engineer had been assigned to our ship as a technician. While few could understand its sign language, it is a welcome addition to the crew.

One sleepless night, while the other half of my team sleep, I decide to seek out Kia who I know will be in the observatory room, because she frequently goes there to think.

My footsteps echo unobstructed down the hallways and sound like the clattering of ammo casings falling from a discharging weapon. I find the sound somewhat comforting.

The observatory door slides open before me and I step into the dimly lit room and instantly find Kia who is sitting on the couch in front of the observatory window.

"Oh, Jackson. What's up?" She says, looking up from her book. I come around the couch and sit to her left and relax in the cushions. "I couldn't sleep either. Figure I would keep you company," I say casually. Kia stares at me for a long time until it makes me feel uncomfortable. It is only when I start squirming that she speaks up. "You and I both know that's not why you're here," she says. I grimace and curse the fact that she can read me so well. I decide to cut the crap and get right to it.

"You got pretty messed up, and this is nothing that we've dealt with before. I'm getting worried about you, Spartan. You and I both know that you being sidelined would be too much," I say seriously. Kia just cracks her arrogant smile and flexes her only arm. "Jackson, if I have to strap a wooden board to my side, I'm getting back into the fight. Nothing is going to stop me. Not if I can help it," she says. "And trust me, I can."

Behind the facade of her smile, I know she is just as worried as the rest of us. This is perhaps the hardest thing we have ever faced, the potential loss of one of our own. It is even harder because there is nothing we can do about it.

I just shake my head and put a hand on her shoulder. "Just remember, Spartan, you're the hardest, toughest, son of a bitch I have ever had the pleasure of fighting with. And even if you get sidelined, you'll never be forgotten," I say. A flash of emotion glints behind her eyes and her cocky expression falters for just a second before she replaces it. "If you ever meet any one else harder than me, you tell me and I'll beat their ass into the ground," Kia says and lets out a hearty laugh. I slap her back and jerk my chin back towards the door. "I'm going to bed. You had better think about doing the same, you'll need all the rest you can get before we are dropped off on Reach tomorrow," I say and leave the observatory room to try and catch some shut-eye.

Nine hours later, we drop out of slipspace and make our approach to the military planet. We are informed by Captain Jameson that our request for temporary military housing was accepted and that upon atmospheric entry, we would be given the housing number and coordinates.

We are allowed to take our own Pelican to the surface and then given a personal transportation vehicle for our own use while we are staying on the planet. It takes about an hour and a half before we finally leave the distribution offices and find our housing.

The house is a four bedroom two-story apartment squished together in a rather long complex with plenty of parking and a gorgeous courtyard with a satisfying view of the distant mountains that reach sharply into the sky.

Upon entering the house, the outside noises are silenced and we are plunged into nearly ear-ringing silence. The apartment smells of fresh cleaning supplies which permeate the nearly empty living space.

We each fan out to investigate the house and claim our rooms. 211 and Kia stake their claims upstairs while Parkson and I settle for the two smaller rooms downstairs.

Each room is equipped with a bed, a nightstand, and a compliment of hangers. And while the rooms are plain and boring, Kia assures us that they can be filled up within no time should she get her way.

After a quick walk-around of the surrounding area, I find out that there is a shopping center a few blocks away along with a sprawling mall. There is hospital a few miles away along with a large military base.

It only takes a week for Captain Jameson to get back to us about Kia's prosthetic My heart jumped when he told us through a report that Kia's request was accepted and that her surgery was scheduled for two weeks from now. I relayed the information to the others and they had the same reaction (with 211's being a little over-the-top). Parkson signed something to Kia and she laughed and refused to translate it for us, even after some vigorous prodding from 211.

A few hours later, we all decide to go down to the pool in the center of the courtyard. It is relatively empty as we find our seats and get ready to enter the water. We had bought swimming gear once we found that there was a pool here. I have always wanted to swim in another pool after my first time in New Mombasa.

I hear the slapping of feet and turn to watch 211 sprinting towards the deepest end of the pool. Once he reaches the edge, he whoops and launches himself off of the edge and lands hard into the center, creating a massive splash that makes the waves slosh up over the side.

Kia exclaims in annoyance as she is splashed by 211's antics. "God damn it, 211! Once I get my arm back, you're _so_ screwed!" She shouts, dabbing at her exposed scar with a towel. I grin and follow 211's lead, creating a slightly smaller splash as I hit the water right behind where 211 had just submerged.

I can only barely hear Kia's curses as I plunge into the water and flip around to come back to the surface. I have to duck when a mug is flung at my head and slaps into the water just behind me. 211 and I share a chuckle before swimming away.

Parkson joins Kia at the shallow end where she stays on the stairs before tentivaly edging deeper and deeper into the water, recoiling every so often as the fresh scar gives her a shock. I can't help but watch her as she slowly enters the water with Parkson's help.

We play around in the water for about an hour before leaving and returning to the apartment as a group. Parkson makes us dinner (as it turns out, he's a good cook) and we each settle down doing our own things.

I decide to watch the news and a special about the military frontlines comes up. They talk about the recent wins on a few colonies and a handful of space-battles that were nothing more then skirmashes, but glorified as some big battle.

I realize that there is nothing even remotely referencing Spartans in their broadcasts. I know for a fact that one of the victories on a far-flung colonist planet was soley because of a team of Spartan-III's. But when they were discussing the battle, only the ODST's and Marines were mentioned and praised. It doesn't come as much as a surprise that the Spartans are still under wraps. Though I do wonder how long that will last until the UNSC realizes that the Spartans are just the morale boost everyone needs.

Two weeks pass with agonizing slowness while we wait for Kia's surgery to come around. But we are all relieved when the call comes for Kia's appointment. We each load into the single car we were given and make the forty-five minute drive to the military base.

The hospital we were told to go to is eerily quiet as we walk down the halls to the surgical center. It reminds me of a city under evacuation orders with citizens that are anxiously waiting for the enemy to arrive. The antiseptic smell puts me on edge as we are told to stay in the waiting room while Kia goes in for surgery.

I feel my nerves getting to me and I find myself absentmindedly scratching at my arm, drawing angry red marks across the flesh before Parkson notices and puts a hand on my arm to stop me. He looks concerned and cocks a quizzical eyebrow, but I just shake my head and go back to staring at the floor.

We wait for what seems like ages before the nurse comes out, looking exhausted, and tells us the operation was a success. We are then allowed into her room and walk in on her practicing basic exercises

Replacing where nothing had been just hours before is a completely metal arm. Its bare mechanics rotate and stretch as she works clumsily with it. It is attached to a ball that simulates the movements that an organic arm would make.

"You're an actual cyborg now," 211 says upon reaching her bedside. Kia gives a vague smile, but her features quickly tighten back up into a stretched expression of concentration. Parkson signs something to her and Kia responds clumsily with both of her hands. "How are you holding up?" I ask her. Kia raises her arm and balls the fingers into a fist. She then strikes out at 211, hitting his chest hard. 211 reels from the hit and looks stunned for a moment before laughing.

"Does that answer your question?" she responds, grinning broadly. I cock my head to look at the arm and notice a few things. "Hey, you can add some attachments to that thing. And with some war-paint, it will look Spartan worthy," I say. She looks at her arm and nods, noticing it as well. "I'll have to ask Jameson about that once we get back," she says.

After another twenty minutes of exercises, we are released from the clinic and sent home with a prescription for pain killers and an appointment with the physical therapist.

As the days pass, Kia adjusts to the prosthetic fast. Our worries about her being unable to return to the fight are quickly left behind when we realize that her new arm is twice as strong as the old one. She had told all three of us to take her on at once, and it ended with us flat on the floor and her standing victorious.

Three weeks before our time on the planet is up, however, I get an encrypted message on my holopad from the Office of Naval Intelligence informing us that our services will be needed for a new mission, and that we would have to leave as soon as possible. As usual, information on the mission is scarce.

The others are excited to be returning to the fight and are not slow to pack up and leave the apartment behind.

We take the Tether to the space station where we take a shuttle to the UNSC _Faithful_. We are not even able to settle down before Captain Jameson calls us to the meeting room. He didn't give us details, and he sounded tense. So I'm assuming that the ONI agent would be waiting for us.

My suspicions are confirmed when we go through the door and find a ghostly looking man standing behind Jameson in black clothing. "Spartans, this is Lieutenant Agraven. He has a mission for you," the Captain says, looking aggravated by the ONI agent's presence. Not even expecting to the ONI person to be friendly, I get right down to business.

"What do you have for us?" I ask, walking over to the star chart which lights up and throws up a projection of a star system. "I am sure I do not have to inform you all information that I give you will not leave this room," the man says, pausing to get our reactions. "You can trust us," I respond. "Good," Agraven says and looks up as the lights dim and details sprawl out on the side of the projections.

"At 1348 hours on December 14th, we had an unknown signature enter the Sigari system. Attempts at contact were met with silence, and its build did not meet any known Covenant, UNSC, or Insurrectionist vehicles," Agraven says. A 2-D picture appears on the projections and shows a distant picture of a small grey colored ship. Its wings are swooping forwards and it has a pod-shaped nose. The build looks too sharp to be Covenant, and I don't recognize it as UNSC. Maybe one of the Jackal raider ships?

"The vehicle disappeared on Sigari V under cover of an electrical storm. We sent a contact team, but they have not yet reported back, they are to be assumed dead. This mission is to be met with extreme caution and treated with the utmost secrecy," The ONI agent says. 211 raises his hand like a child in school before speaking, which makes me break the face of seriousness I had put on.

"So what you're saying is; you're sending us on a mission to intercept an unknown target on a dead planet of which we have no data on?" He asks. Agraven's features tighten, obviously signaling annoyance, and he nods. "Correct."

211 rubs his hands together and laughs. " _What are we waiting for, then?_ "


	33. Chapter Thirty-two

_Under Wraps_

 **1345, April 2nd, 2548 [MILITARY CALENDAR]/ Enroute to Sigari V**

I hate ONI with a passion, but when we are called to fight I can't do much about it. But I have to admit; they do have some sweet weapons.

We are heading down to Sigari V with a Pelican fully loaded with all kinds of dangerous devices. One of the most dangerous is a SPNKR rocket launcher with four missiles that can track air _and_ ground targets. It comes loaded with a sight and highly explosive rounds. The others consist of an augmented Sniper Rifle with thermal, night vision, and an enhanced scope, silenced SMG's, a DMR with increased range and fire rate, binoculars that can link with our HUD, and remote detonation explosives.

The planet's surface is black and barren with molten lava spewing out of every crack and crevice. The air is indeed hot, but our suits environmental systems keep us from burning alive. There doesn't seem to be anything living down here, and it raises some serious questions as to why that ship came down here.

"I'm getting an engine reading one mile to the south. I think we've got our culprit," Kia says, raising her head from her Tacpad. Parkson lands the Pelican and lowers the ramp. The "cooler" air in the pelican sends out a burst of steam once it is released and dissipates quickly after. "Keep on a swivel, Spartans, and keep an eye out for contacts," I tell the others.

The terrain is awkward to trek and our pace is slower than desired, but we make it to the ship in fifteen minutes.

The ship is perched on an opening created in the side of a small hill. A rocky canopy curves partially over its left side, concealing it from the west side. This means that it had seen us coming and repositioned the vehicle to try and hide it.

After a quick search of the perimeter, we find no other contacts and turn our attention to the unknown ship.

Its size is that of a Longsword. But its design is nothing like I have ever seen. Its curved wings defy any space fairing design known, and its twin engines don't seem as if the could propel anything larger than a shuttle. There is no obvious entry point which just raises further questions. Its design is seamless, as well. There are no fusion points. It just seems...organic.

We take some pictures for later evidence and then try to figure out where the occupants went.

"No tracks...no trails...where the hell did this thing go?" 211 says out of frustration. "What the hell _is_ this thing?" Kia says. "I think its safe to say this thing isn't human or Covenant," I say, looking back at the ship. "Maybe a new Covie species? We don't know everything about the bastards," Kia suggests. "Maybe. Just be on alert," I say.

We fan out and search the area for any immediate signs of its whereabouts. Parkson signals for us to come to him and when we do, we find a device nestled between two rocks. The thing is spherical with two stubbed extensions on seperate sides. It has a pulsing colored band running beneath the extensions that seems to be emitting a signal of some kind.

Suspicious if this thing is a jammer, I attempt to contact the Faithful with our findings, only to be met with a dead channel. "It's a signal jammer," I confirm. "Think we can defuse it?"

211 takes the object from me and sets it on the ground. He then raises his boot up and brings it down on the object. It shatters under the impact, sending debris flying in all directions and pinging off of our armor.

"That's one way to do it," Kia says with a chuckle.

As we are climbing a hill, I see the glint of a rifle and tell the others to get down. The rifle discharges, sending a flash of greenish substance flying over our heads. We then open suppressing fire before spreading out to different vantage points.

"I don't have a visual," I say, scanning the horizon. "Negative on-" 211 starts to say, but ends it with a yelp of surprise. Gunfire discharges at his position before going quiet. "Please tell me you won that," Kia says nervously, having been almost directly in front of him.

Her question is met by a single gunshot and I see her tag fall hard. "Shit. Parkson, converge on my position. Watch for anything invisible," I tell the last Spartan. He picks up his weapon and sprints for where I am hiding. He presses his back against the rock and glances around. He then stiffens up and signs something I had learned, "bad feeling". When Parkson has a bad feeling about something, something is about to happen. I point up at a depression in the rocks and Parkson nods and climbs up into it, concealing himself.

A good six minutes pass before the next attack starts. I see a flash of black and open fire with my Assault Rifle. I am rewarded with a grunt as a handful of bullets hit the moving target. But it had gotten closer, which makes me retreat a few steps. I had only noticed my mistake when a triangular projectile falls out of the sky and lands at my feet. Refusing to be taken out, I pick the projectile up and chuck it as hard as I can where I predicted the thing came from.

I duck down as the thing detonates, filling the air with crackling electricity. A scream of pain rewards me with the enemy's position and I immediately go towards it.

I find a speck of blood, but no body. The hair on my neck stands up and I _feel_ the attacker behind me. But before I can turn to fight him, the enemy attaches something sharp to my back. The device paralyzes me and sends me crashing to the ground. I am unable to catch myself and end up cracking my visor so bad that the HUD is disabled.

As soon as I go down, Parkson is there to back me up. I hear him drop from the taller rocks and land hard on the attacker. A scuffle ensues, and someone runs off. The paralyzing device is removed from my back and Parkson helps me up.

"The hell was that?" I ask, furious. Parkson holds up a cylindrical object that looks like a power-up device that the Spartan-III's use, except it has tubes and a fog-like aura emanating out of it. "Definitely not human," I say. Parkson nods his head in confirmation.

I climb the hill and see something move. I act and unload an entire clip. All three of us trade fire for a good fifteen minutes before the shots stop coming and the thing walks out with its hands in the air.

Its armor is foreign to us. The thing is vaguely human-shaped except its armor makes it look remarkably bulky, like a tree. It has twin jetpacks emerging from its back, and its left arm doesn't have an obvious hand. In its place is a long spear.

"Are you finally done now?" I ask it. The creature responds with a hissing alien language that reminds me of a snake. "Sorry, buddy, can't understand you," I say, keeping my weapon trained on it. The alien seems to understand this, because the spear transforms into an actual hand and it kneels down and put its hands behind its head like it is about to be arrested.

"Stay up here," I tell Parkson and descend the rocky hill to apprehend the alien. I approach the alien and restrain its hands together with a strong set of handcuffs. I then pull it to its feet and guide it back up the hill.

After securing the alien in the Pelican, I go to find 211 and Kia. They had been paralyzed with the same device and were frozen in crouching positions. I remove the device, tell them that the chase had ended, and walk them back to the pelican.

Like me, they felt a little woozy and dizzy and had to sit down as soon as they got back. The alien stares ahead impassively, saying nothing. I don't treat it as bad as I would have an insurrectionist because of its surrender and the fact that it didn't directly hurt any of us.

Once we start up the Pelican I open a channel to the secure channel and am met by the ONI agent. "What is your status?" he asks. "Subject has been apprehended. We are returning to the Faithful now. The subject isn't of any known race, so I suggest you arrange an outside meet-up," I tell him. Agraven is silent for a few minutes, presumably setting up a meeting. "Once you leave the planet's orbit, you will be met by a friendly contact. Do not return to the Faithful until your cargo has been unloaded. Do not contact anyone and if you are met by anyone other than the contact, you are required to open fire," the ONI agent says. "Copy that," I reply. The channel cuts out and I inform Parkson of the deal.

"I don't think we should hand him over," Kia says, her features deep with worry. "Why is that?" I ask her. She just shrugs her shoulders. "You know what ONI is going to do to. They'll torture the information out of him. I don't think first contact with a new species should be met like that," she says. I look at the prisoner sitting stoically across from us and feel a pang of pity, but quickly clear my feelings. "This is none of our business, Kia. We're just here to do our jobs," I say. Kia drops the subject, but I can tell she's still concerned.

I don't like this either, but short of going rogue, there is nothing we can do. Plenty of soldiers and Spartans have gone rogue over the years, but I refuse to do so over this mission alone. For now, we'll just have to forget about it.

As soon as we clear orbit we are approached by a midnight black Prowler. It had appeared out of nowhere and right on time. The ONI agents take the subject and leave just as abruptly as they had arrived.

Once we return to the _Faithful_ , our battle recordings and pictures are confiscated by Agraven and we are told to keep this quiet and never speak of it again.

We discuss what the thing might have been in the privacy of our quarters, but the discussion dies quickly once we run out of answers.

A few days after the incident, Captain Jameson comes to us with another mission. This time we are to take a second Spartan team with us. We will be joining the frontlines in the Surrigati system. But this time, we won't be going behind enemy lines, we'll be staying at the front. It has been a while since we've been anywhere near the front lines, so it is going to be interesting.

After a short trip in slipspace, we enter the solar system and approach the planet. A sudden change of plans has us rushing for the SOIV drop room and clambering into our individual pods as we are getting ready to launch. I had seen Charles and his team before entering the pod, but I hadn't had the time to give him more than a nod before closing the hatch.

As soon as I close myself in, a barrage of missiles slams into the _Faithful_ and shocks the hull, making the pods lurch in their restraints. I bring the SOIV online and hold onto the bars as the others come online in quick succession.

"Feet first into hell, boys! Last one down buys the bar," Charles says, his voice filtered through the COM link. "Semper fi!" one of the ODST's cries.

The locks on the pods are released and we are shot out through the tubes and clear the ship's hull. There is a brief moment of clear respite, the calm before the storm, but then the enemy ships open fire and I find myself encased in a hellstorm of plasma explosions that detonate wildly around us as they try and shoot us out of the air.

I can only hold onto the bars and try not to grit my teeth too hard as all eighteen of the pods enter the planet's blue sky. The air is clear and the battlefield below is dotted with both ally and enemies alike. I can see where I am going to drop, right in between a Wraith and a Scorpion.

I glance around to see where the others are and find three pods in the immediate vicinity. 211's tag is right above me, but Kia and Parkson's tags are out of range. I then return my attention to the ground and brace myself as the altitude meter continues to plummet.

The parachute deploys to slow my descent, but is quickly shredded once a Banshee sets its sights on me and pesters my descent with a hail of bullets. For some reason it picked me out of the others and drops a plasma missile into the back of the pod, making its steady decent turn into a deadly spiral.

The impact knocks the hatch loose and for a moment, I can see the ground below in shocking detail. I then decide to act on impulse and free myself from the pod. I coil my legs under me and shove free of the SOIV.

Angling down at ninety degrees, I have little time to react before the Wraith comes up and I slam right into it like a mortar shell.

My body breaks right through its shell and absolutely demolishes the tank. Its terrified pilot has no time to react before the thing explodes, showering me with debris and fire as I pull myself out of the crater I had created from turning myself into an orbital missile.

Once free of the rocks, I charge for an Elite and ram my combat blade into his jaw before pulling it out and impaling another Elite and shoving its body back into a third. I come up behind the stunned Sangheili and seize his neck then pull him down before embedding the blade up to its hilt in alien gore.

The last ten pods hit the ground and their occupants come out shooting, surprising the enemies that had been occupying the immediate area. The sound of the new gunfire is deafening but effective as we drive the overwhelming amount of enemies off of the front row of tanks.

"Jackson, Hunters at your six!" Zeke calls over the radio. I turn to see four lumbering hunters preparing to fire their plasma cannons, aiming straight for us. "I'll get behind them, you open fire when they turn," I say and dive behind a rock just as the plasma cannon discharges and gouges a hole in the ground inches from my hiding place.

I throw a grenade, wait for it to detonate, and then charge in right after it, shooting as I run. I come around the back of the Hunters in a wide arc and draw their attention by shooting at each of their exposed backs. "Come and get me, you stupid brutes!" I shout, further drawing their gaze and gunfire from the others.

I am forced to switch positions as my cover is blown to shrapnel and the floor beneath my feet is melted and burned. My shields are continuously dropped and I can feel my skin blistering from the plasma as their attacks become increasingly ferocious.

Finally, the dying cries of a Hunter pierces the air, followed by the blood-rage of its bond brother. The enraged Hunter charges my position, but is gunned down shortly after by the reinforcements from the rear.

The remaining two hunters are conflicted as to who to shoot, and end up fighting back-to-back while trying to fend off all eight of us.

In the end, an ODST produces a rocket launcher and finishes off the wounded Hunters, making their armor break and sending the disgusting worms flying in all directions.

We rejoin the fight and assist the tanks in taking out a fleet of Wraiths by winding in between them and sabotaging with grenades scooped off of the ground. But the real fight begins when two Scarabs are dropped from close orbit and nearly crush a group of Warthogs that only barely manage to scatter at the last moment.

"Zeta, you take the one on the left! My team and I will be on the right. Watch for cross fire," I call over the COMs. "Copy that. You heard the Spartan, grab a tank and get moving!" Zeta yells.

211 relieves a tank from one of the Marines and rolls it over a rise and grabs the Scarab's attention by shooting at its knee joints. "Aim for the knees, Marines. If you want that bastard off of you, you have to cripple it first!" 211 says, continuously firing from his open vantage point.

I sprint as hard as I can and come up underneath the Scarab's shadow, Parkson reappears with a Warthog that he keeps at a safe distance. As soon as the knee joint is blown out, the Scarab leans forwards, alarms blaring on the inside. "Come on!" I yell to Kia and run for the Warthog which parkson had parked directly beneath the opening in the back.

We vault the warthog and use it as a springboard to get onto the Scarab. Kia slips but I catch her and get her to her feet. I then seize the empty plasma turret and rip it from its stand, making it mobile.

Kia forges ahead and I follow closely behind, gunning down those that get in my way. "Core room's up here!" Kia calls from the upper floor. I am forced to abandon the turret when two suicide grunts and an Elite charge, threatening to overwhelm me. I duck behind a wall, wait for the plasma grenades to detonate, and then pop back up and gun down the Elite. I go to retrieve the turret but find it twisted beyond use from the plasma grenades.

I find Kia finishing off a Jackal and wait for her to be done before blasting away at the core.

The detonation blisters at my skin and staggers me for a second before we run down the platform, descend the stairs, and drop down onto the dirt. We make sure to clear the Scarab before turning to watch it explode.

Just as the first Scarab goes up in flames, the second drops down from a blown knee joint. Kia and I watch as Zeta boards the vehicle and swiftly eradicates the enemies within and brings the beast down.

The battlefield finally calms down once the rest of the enemies are taken out. The last remaining tanks and warthogs regroup and the Marines gather to do a head-count.

"LZ's clear for approach, bring 'er in," a nearby Marine says, speaking into his COM device.

We switch our gaze to the sky and watch as a tiny grey dot quickly turns into a massive UNSC Frigate. It swoops over the battlefield and disappears for another few minutes before reappearing and sending dust flying in all directions.

It comes to settle in the largest area avaible and the Frigate drops it loading pad, revealing six Scorpions and a handful of decked-out Warthogs.

"Hell yeah! Now that's a breathtaking sight if I've ever seen one!" 211 exclaims. His last Scorpion had burst into flames after taking a direct hit from the doomed Scarab and he had escaped just moments before it exploded. Now, he rushes down the hill and take control of one of the vacant machines.

"Sirs, your mission parameters have changed. We'll be storming a Covenant-held dam. There's an entire battalion holed up there and they're threatening the entire fight here on the surface. We've been called in to weed 'em out," a Marine says after jumping from the back of a Warthog. He wears the stripes of a Sergeant and has an old scar sitting above his left brow, making him look angrier than he is.

"We just keep getting pulled back in, eh? Can never keep us out," Arnold says. "You had to expect it. Infriltration is what we do best," Jessica say, slinging her weapon over her back. Kia consults her tacpad and reads off the coordinates. "Another twelve mile march? I can do that in my sleep," 211 says. "Your opinion doesn't matter, 211. You'll be in a tank," I say, crossing my arms. "You can't say much, you'll be riding the tank!" 211 retorts. I just laugh and shrug. "Got me there."

Kia and I load onto 211's tank while Parkson drops into the passenger seat of a Warthog driven by Zeke and gunned by Arnold. Jessica and Jacobs take a seperate Warthog as well and drive ahead of the others.

The convoy of tanks and Warthogs moves out and we begin the long trek to the dam.


End file.
